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shititbe · 3 years

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Anyway, HSM2 is about internalized homophobia, and no one can tell me otherwise.

High School Musical is one of the most beloved franchises in the world. Teenagers all over the world grew up watching Troy and Gabriella harmonize together. Three movies, and nearly a decade later it’s still beloved by all. The first film easily forgotten in the ashes of the early 2000’s, the third film stuck in a purgatorial limbo of the rather unfortunate late 2000’s. The second film on the other hand sticks out between the ruckus.

The second High School Musical film takes place at Sharpay and Ryan’s family country club, during the summer between junior and senior year. The Wildcats are working summer jobs on the country club, often forced to the beck and call of Ryan and Sharpay themselves. Sharpay uses all her prestige to help Troy with college instead of starting at the bottom ( or rather, in the kitchen washing dishes) with his friends. In the time she’s helping Troy, she is also pushing her brother away; replacing him with Troy in their musical number for the talent show, and refusing to hang out with him in preference for Troy. Ryan becomes vengeful to his twin and starts hanging around the Wildcats in the kitchen. At first, he was met with some distasteful looks and words (most of which from Chad). With the help of Kelsey, and her neutral party, Ryan fits in smoothly with the other teenagers, eventually giving the WildCats all dance lessons.

Throughout the movie, the main conflict continues to be the internal conflict of Troy Bolton. He debates over and over again if he should go through with Sharpay’s shenanigans, or if he wants to “listen to my own heart.” This of course involves Gabriella, as she is Troy’s love interest. She’s not in the second film except for the beginning, then, where she leaves in the middle of the film - in order to create angst for Troy - then when she shows up again in the finally to sing/rejoin Troy.

The conflict in the second film is the combining of Troy’s two worlds. His first - his main world in the first movie, that hence became his secondary world - which is represented by Chad. Then his secondary world - which becomes his main world in this movie - which is represented by Ryan. Chad represents Troy’s masculinity, or his more idealized version of himself. Ryan represents Troy’s femininity or his current version of reality. These two worlds collide in the iconic song “I don’t dance”.

Since this movie - and hence this scene - came out in the early 2000’s, a lot of the innuendoes went over people's heads. Luckily, as the children who watched this movie grew older and more experienced, and the world became more accepting, we’re able to see this song for what it is.

Before getting into the lore and symbolism of the iconic “I Don’t Dance” sequence, context is needed. For most of human history, homosexuality was seen as a sin in all places except ancient times (see: Greece and Japan). The modern age is the most accepting on all fronts, such as sexual orientation, race, and religion. In the early 2000’s, High School Musical director Kenny Ortega was not publicialy out yet. He wouldn’t be till 2014.

Originally, while writing this, my first thought was that Kenny - the director - would be using Troy as a y/n type character to project his insecurities and struggles with masculinity, and what that means in defining his orientation and societal views that would be placed upon him. Then, it came to me later that this is in fact not the case, Troy (and Gabriella - who is in fact a y/n character for the female audience) is more of a character for a man of his time, confused with his own ideals of masculinity and the views of society because, “oh god, I can’t like theater/drama because only queer people and girls like it!” The second point is pushed further with the Troy and Sharpay sub-plot. Sharpay tries to further Troy’s career as a basketball player, though that’s not what he wants anymore, and Troy is no longer sure if that is what he ever wanted to begin with (enter the song “Bet on it” and the hilarious meme “no dad, I’m giving up on your dream”).

Keeping these things in mind - Kenney’s queerness, and Troy’s struggle to realize you can in fact sing and be a heterosexual, wow, revolutionary - it became clear to me that Kenney’s y/n characters were Ryan and Chad.

For those who aren’t into the arts, or find them too difficult after a singular attempt thinking they could write a world class novel on the first go, let me be the first to tell you every author has a y/n character. First, for those who don’t know what y/n stands for, it’s a popular fanfiction trope where a writer will write a story about a character dating, being friends, and so on, with the reader. The y/n stands for “your name” so anyone can be the main character in this story at any time. For a writer of mainstream fictional work, such as High School Musical, Game Of Thrones, Lord Of The Rings, Pride and Prejudice, Harry Potter, Hunger Games, even most comics. Now, most writers or directors aren’t going to be as obvious as having a character not named (or named y/n) or even named Jane (looking at you Jane Austin), the y/n character of many mainstream authors/directors/comic artists and so on is usually the character they feel or have given the most attributes similar to themselves.

It’s the same reason people have favourite characters. You see a fictional character and you either 1. Want to Bob the Builder them, 2. Some sort of weird sex thing, or 3. See more/the most of yourself in this character. Number three - thankfully - is usually the main reason. Some people just create their own favourite characters. An even easier way to think about this, is just projection baby, that’s psych 101.

Before I went off on a small tangent of fictional works and how human emotion plays into creating them (except anything Disney has made in the past decade, and no you can’t change my mind on that) I mentioned that Chad and Ryan are Kenney’s y/n characters. As a queer person myself, it’s clear for me to see the different struggles each of these characters face and how these reflect the queer experience.

So, let’s finally get into it.

Ryan, without it being explicitly said is clearly a character of what people in the early 2000s think a gay man is. He is effeminate, wearing bright coloured outfits with lots of accessories - namely his signature hats - he is also in the theater department doing musicals, and passive/subservient to any of his twin sisters' wills. Yes, now we know gay men aren’t just feminized men, but in the early 2000’s a gay man who can do "masculine" things like change their car oil, like sports, and so on, break the "effeminate" stereotype thus confused many cishet people. Sharpay is painted as more confident - or, for sake of comparability - masculine to her twin in the first movie, and most of the second movie. Making Ryan a bit of her dog who would do anything to get by - painting Ryan as lesser than human, once more, playing into the homophobia of the early 2000's.

Despite the clear stereotypes playing into his character, Ryan is consistently one of the most confident characters in the movie. The other, being his sister of course. This confidence in himself is what gravitates the other characters towards him, either by being intimidated (Troy, thinking Ryan and Gabriella were a thing), or admiration (Chad, by the end of “I don’t dance”).

Chad, on the other hand, is a whole different ball game. While he is confident in the first movie, and the first portion of the second movie, he begins to break more and more when Ryan becomes a more integral part of the Wildcat group. To keep in mind, Chad is also the most vocal about his distaste for Troy’s artistic past-time. When the other Wildcats join Ryan and begin learning how to dance for the talent show at the end of the movie, Chad is also the most vocal about his distaste. The baseball game where “I don’t dance” takes place, is the climax of Chad’s arc and his turn towards acceptance to Ryan/Troy’s hobbies.

Of course, there is more to the “I don’t dance” sequence than just Chad’s realization - the exact one Troy comes to terms with in the second movie as well - of “oh my god I don’t have to be gay to enjoy stereotypical ‘feminine’ things.” That is the main part of the song though, that and all the sexual tension.

Going back to what I’ve stated previously, Chad and Ryan are Kenney’s projection or y/n characters. Let me do a small recap before we get into the nitty gritty of the famous “I don’t dance” video.

Thinking back to the first few paragraphs, I stated that Kenney wasn’t publicly out till 2014, about 7 years after the second movie came out. This could be due to the fact that a) it’s the early 2000’s and everyones still very homophobic, or b) self-doubt that comes with the queer experience. The most likely reason is a mixture of both of these. Because of this, Ryan is the more self-assured version, or idealized version of Kenney that he wants to be. Ryan is confident, never being swayed about his lifestyle (could be read as: sexuality) even though Chad - and most of the wildcats in the first movie - put him through relentless “teasing” and humiliation. He’s confident, almost to a fault, he’s sure of himself, and yet still reaches out a hand to Chad and the other wildcats to show them that they’re just being, kinda dick-ish.

Every queer person wants to be Ryan. Despite his heavily stereotyped characterization, I personally believe he is one of the stronger written characters in the movies, mainly due to Kenney putting the time in to really make Ryan feel like a real person, to give himself some sort of relief of his own anxieties, a chance to see the world through a person who truly has no fear. Unlike Kenney himself.

This is where Chad comes in.

Chad is seen as “confident” in the first movie, the second Troy “leaves” basketball though, all that confidence comes crashing down. His best friend has another hobby - one he thinks is “not right” (it’s okay, you can say gay), - they wont be spending all their time together (first, can you say dependent relationship much, yikes).Chad’s defining characteristic up until their fight that instigate act three of the second movie, is being Troy’s best friend. I’m going to take this as if this were truly the case, and not a decently written character arch. Some people base themselves around their friends and their whole identity on being a friend, that they lose sight of themselves, this mainly in high school of course, when your whole world is really nothing but school, and friends. Newly developed independence is there, but that’s scary, so instead of worrying about the future, cling to something that’s reliable. I’ve seen this happen, mainly at the end of high school, when the “real world” is coming a bit too close for comfort. This could generally be the case if a person is lonely, but for timeline sake I’m going to say Chad has got some anxiety about graduating (considering the second movie takes place the summer of junior year).

His lashing out at Troy’s hobbies and at Troy’s neglectful friendship, make more sense with that background, and are seen more in the second movie where Troy begins spending all his spare time with Sharpay (trying to collect that BAG!). Chad - and others (read: father) - insists that music is not a feasible career option, and Troy should just stick with basketball (like...that is a feasible career option). The tension Chad creates in the studio only grows when the other wildcats decide to take up Ryan’s offer for dance lessons and move from the kitchen, to helping out with the talent show. (Next essay idea: how high school musical two was really about class all along, cause Jesus).

Chad is the less obvious option for a y/n character. Though again, the 2000’s were not as cool people like to pretend they are. Chad - for Kenney - represents what he actually feels, this fear of being rejected for how he is and how he chooses to live his life/lifestyle, so he sticks to something reliable. Ryan is new, and exciting, and confident in a way that Kenney/Chad wish they could be, but in order for that to happen they need to understand that maybe people are complex creatures, and can enjoy multiple hobbies (aka: the same lesson Troy is teaching the viewers, but far less boring). But, for Kenney/Chad facing that thought and that realization is scary, and thus, they lash out at anyone (read this paragraph as: Chad mad jealous of Ryan cause Ryan bomb as fuck).

All this build up, finally comes ahead in the employee baseball match

******

The baseball game is probably the most memorable scene in the whole High School Musical franchise (minus Sharpay’s “Fabulous” solo, but that’s also from the same movie, and it’s kinda rude to give what’s already the best more points); the tension in the scene, and what it implies makes it the best written segment of all three movies, let alone the most entertaining.

Some things to keep in mind from our background information: Chad is missing his bestie and struggling with what being “masculine” really means for him and others. Ryan of course makes this confusing, because the traditional method is being thrown out the window. In short, Chad has internalized homophobia, and Ryan being open - or as open as Disney would let him - is causing all sorts of problems.

Despite the song, “I don’t dance” being logged into our collective skulls for all eternity (you’re probably humming it right now, sorry about that), the very brief interaction of Ryan and Chad before the game is lost on the public consciousness. The two are clearly comfortable with each other, though the distaste seems to be on Chad’s side more than Ryans. So, the two start playfully jabbing at each other before deciding to do a bat toss to see who will be in the outfield first.

Before they begin the bat toss, Ryan says “You don’t think dancing takes some game?” Chad then very clearly checks him out, doing a simple but effective ‘drag-your-eyes-over-them-top-to-bottom-then-smile’ and says “you got game?” (Seen in gif below)

I don’t know how much you know about sex metaphors and how many of those baseball has in it (seriously though, it’s a lot), but with the bat toss, Ryan’s hand ended up on top, and Chad’s under Ryan’s. Let’s ignore this for now, it’ll be implied again later. Ryan’s team starts out in the outfield because he won the bat toss, and hence, the song officially starts.

The first lyrics (ignoring the chores of “hey batter batter, hey batter batter, swing”) is

I'll show you that it's one and the same

Baseball, dancing, same game

It's easy

Step up to the place, start swingin

This part is sung by Ryan, who is taunting Chad out in the outfield. Before the game, as stated, Chad was taunting Ryan about his lack of “game” (both sexual and not sexual metaphor are implied), and now, Ryan has turned those tables around. Baseball - is seen as more masculine than dancing, not as masculine as football or basketball, but it’s up there. Chad is someone who cares about his masculinity, enough to the point that Ryan playing baseball makes him loose his mind. Makes him question his own personal definition of masculinity, if you will.

Ryan says, “baseball, dancing, same game,” impyling that, to him, baseball and dancing are one and the same. That is baffling to Chad, cause well, how can something meant for girls even be close to something meant for boys.

Chad comes back with:

I wanna play ball now, and that's all

This is what I do

It ain't no dance that you can show me, yeah

This only proves my previous point.

I had a conversation with myself about this, and I’ve decided not to include it in this essay, but a second essay may or may not be possible. Basically the premise - the dancing/”musical” moments of High School Musical are conjured up images by those meant to see them (ie: like a visual hallucination, but, not really) but this scene kinda poo-poos that idea.

Now, the thing I am talking about is Ryan and Chad’s peacocking at each other during the time they sing these lyrics. The movements they’re making could be mistaken for dancing - as we automatically assume it is because of the title and themes of the movie - or it could be them just getting ready for the baseball game. Ryan swings his leg over the pitcher's mound, tossing the ball up and down into his glove, making wavy hand gestures, etc. Chad brushes off his gloves, swings his legs, hits the bat on each foot, and so on.

For the peacocking, Chad makes a mock of the ballerina foot stance before strutting over to the home plate. Ryan laughs at this, which earns quite the smirk from Chad himself (see gif below).

This is when it becomes a conversation.

You'll never know - R

Oh I know - Ch

If you never try - R

There's just one little thing - Ch

That stops me every time, yeah - Ch

Come on - Ch

When Chad says “Come on” it’s when Ryan throws the baseball at him, starting the game, and giving Chad’s team their first strike of the game (get it, it’s funny). Now, obviously we need to talk about the “there’s just one little thing that stops me every time.” As a queer person, I assure you, two of the things that kept me from living my Best Life were 1) my own ignorance of what asexuality was and 2) the fear that everyone I love would hate me for who I am, and what I have no control over.

Sorry to get deep like that on main, but, can any other queer person say different? Obviously, your first point may differ, but my point still stands. In the video/scene there is a very short moment (to which I have condensed into a gif for you all, you’re welcome, and I’m sorry about the quality in advance), of the camera moving over to Chad’s team (or his friends in this case since it’s an employee baseball game) as he says this line (gif below).

I will not be explaining the use of subtly in this essay, but I’m sure you get the metaphor Kenney is trying to use. If not, let me spell it out for you in very simple words. This song has a lot of sexual innuendos (as mentioned pervious with the baseball bat scene and still, more to come), with that in mind, and clearly queer themes at play (as mentioned before, again), this scene only shows Chad isn’t as straight as he leads on. His fear/phobia of Ryan/the arts come from a much deeper place.

In shorter, and much simpler terms: Chad queer.

But, let’s get back to the boy's conversation.

I don't dance - Ch

I know you can - R

Not a chance, no - Ch

If I could do this, well, you could do that - R

Translation: “If I can do this weird, sweaty, dirty, Male thing without blowing a fuse, you can and should be able to dance just fine.”

But I don't dance - Ch

Hit it out of the park - Both

I don't dance - Ch

I say you can - R

There's not a chance, oh - Ch

Slide home, you score, swingin on the dance floor - Both

I don't dance, no - Ch (This is just the chores, you’ll see it multiple times throughout the essay, I just figured if the song is going to be in your head, go all the way right).

Two-steppin, now you're up to bat - R

Bases loaded, do your dance - R

Here we are with the baseball metaphors you’ve all been waiting for ladies and gentlemen. Girls, gays, and non-binary pals. For those who have somehow managed a sheltered existence with access to the internet, lemme help you. Ryan is talking about “loaded bases” both in the context of the game (where it shows each base has one person from Chad’s team on them) and in the term of sex. While you go out there dating - while it’s mostly douche bags and people using it ironically - your nosey friends may ask you how far you got.

“First, second, or third base?” They may ask. Or something like, “oh wow, did you get to home plate/base?” These are simply the rankings of the stages of a sexual relationship. First - kissing, sometimes just handholding, Second - making out, some light groping, Third - full on groping, no clothes come off, but it gets close. While each person has different boundaries, these are the general accepted definitions for the bases.

Home base is obviously full blown sexual intercourse. Since Chad has his “bases loaded” it means he’s done all these things before, just never gone completely to sexual intercourse with someone - in the terms of the song and the history we’ve already established, it’s most likely a male character. This is only proven by Chad’s uncomfortable nature towards Ryan (internalized Homophobia, thank you, returning theme) but his easy, and cocky personality towards everyone else. “bUt thAt DoEsnT pRovE” hush, that’s the final cherry on top. Remember this conversation.

It's easy - R

Again. Previous points have been made.

Take your best shot, just hit it - Ch

I've got what it takes, playin my game - Ch

So you better spin that pitch - Ch

You're gonna throw me, yeah - Ch

I'll show you how I swing - Ch

Ah, the famous “I’ll show you how i swing” a very strong baseball metaphor for everyone. Keeps queer people from defining themselves to dangerous (straight) people, and, well, that’s it actually. This term is mostly used by bi/pan people, though if you want to stay in the closet or are in a dangerous place, it is also used to subtly tell other queer people you are in fact, not straight. My favourite is when this term came into play when President Buchanan got elected in 1856 (for those that don’t know, he’s the first and only gay president).

You'll never know - R

Oh I know - Ch

If you never try - R

There's just one little thing - Ch

That stops me every time, yeah - Ch

This is again, the same lyric as before it doesn’t pan, and the tone is much different. The camera stays on Chad as he says this line, meaning he’s reflecting, he is now his own problem, the person that is keeping him back. His friends are not on his mind anymore, which is good, Ryan’s Gay Propaganda has been working.

Come on - Ch

I don't dance - Ch

I know you can - R

Not a chance, no, no - Ch

If I could do this, well, you could do that - R

But I don't dance - Ch

Hit it out of the park - R

I don't dance - Ch

I say you can - R

There's not a chance, oh no - Ch

Slide home, you score, swingin on the dance floor - Both

I don't dance, no - Ch

Lean back, tuck it in, take a chance - R

Swing it out, spin around, do the dance - R

I wanna play ball, not dance hall - Ch

I'm makin a triple, not a curtain cal - Chl

I can prove it to you til you know it's true - R

'Cause I can swing it, I can bring it to the diamond too - R

You're talkin a lot, show me what you got - Ch

Again, like the beginning of this song, this is a heavy base for flirting and sexual tension, which this song is drowning in.

Stop swinging - both

Hey - both

This is the part where they all start a flash mob in the middle of the baseball diamond. Again, alluding to the conversation I had to myself earlier, this only proves my own theory as no one takes notice of this. But, that’s not this essay, this is where I mention how close Chad and Ryan are at the end of the group dance.

Come on, swing it like this - both

Oh, swing - both

Jitterbug, just like that - both

That's what I mean, that's how you swing - both

You make a good pitch but I don't believe - both

Here is yet another (and the final) sexual innuendo. This is actually a rather quick one. Pitching in queer culture is considered the person who tops (because queer people even had to straight-ify their sex lives to “top” and “bottom”), this is the person who is giving, if you know what I’m saying.

I say you can - R

I know I can't - Ch

I don't dance - Ch

You can do it - R

I don't dance, no - Ch

Here is where that mosh pit ends, and how they get a little too close to comfort.

Nothing to it, atta boy, atta boy, yeah - both

The rest of this song is simply a mash-up of the baseball game being finished, and this lovely gem.

Now, clearly, Chad’s self conscious nature towards his sexuality is gone, he’s sitting close - if not squishing - Ryan, and talking to him like they’ve been friends forever. Take note of the change of close, most likely due to all the tension at the end of the song, and maybe a little of Chad’s own natural human curiosity built in. Now, I leave you with this note:

If there is anything that confirms all this more, its Chad’s girlfriend wearing the pride colours.

Also note: this could also be seen as a friend helping his bro discover his sexuality and fighting internalized homophobia, but, that’s ignoring the sexual tension, so go off I guess.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Watch the full thing here

#high school musical 2 #ryan and chad #do they have a ship name?#troy bolton #high school musical #the original not the remake or whatever the kids have now #ryan evans #chad danforth #Sharpay evans #troy x gabriella #ryan/chad #that baseball scene #yall know what i'm talking about #i don't dance #the gayest scene ever #and gayest song #Anyways: the series #should I write that second essay?#thanks for coming to my ted talk

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pale-silver-comb · 4 years

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So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals.

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong.

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day.

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.)

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon.

#leverage #leverage ot3 #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #nate ford #talk leverage to me

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majesticbrownjawn · 4 years

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Delicate

Violet reluctantly goes to a house party with her bestie. Meets Erik. Is subsequently turned out. 😩

————————————

"So you coming girl? It's gon be lots of niggas there."

"I'm good. I'm not tryna meet no niggas. I'm tryna meet a man."

Violet was thirty-three and far past the time for games. She was focused and didn't want a man to come and throw her off her game. That's what her 20s had been for and she'd left them behind almost four years ago.

"I need you to be my wingman though. Pleaseeeeee."

"Fine. I'll come, but I'm driving and just know I'm leaving yo ass when I'm ready to go."

Three hours later she was in her car listening to Siri giving her directions to the kickback.

"Girl, where the hell we going?"

"Uhhhhh..." Trina knew if she'd told Violet where the party was, she wouldn't have come. She loved her friend, but she could be uptight and snooty.

"Um, hello. I'm not talking to Siri's ass, Trina.

"Oakland," she squeaked.

"Trina!"

"I know. But I really wanted to come. This is Devante's best friend's party and I didn't want to go alone. I won't know anyone else there."

Trina was the opposite of Violet in that she was blinded by her desire for companionship. Most times she'd end up hurt or used, or both, only to make the same mistake with the next guy. Devante seemed to be a little better, but Violet hadn't met him yet, so she couldn't say for sure. Violet had a keen intuition and she rarely read people wrong. She was eager to see what Devante was all about.

Violet looked at the GPS and saw they only had about 10 minutes left on their ride. If they hadn't been so close, she would have turned back in the direction of her condo.

They pulled up to the home and compared to the others on the block, it looked out of place. It was, well, nice. No doubt an anomaly among the rest of what comes to mind of what people like Violet might think stereotypical Oakland looks like.

Violet groaned when she realized they'd have to park about a block down the street. Cars lined the area and she hoped the people who drove those cars weren't in the same place they were headed. It was a futile hope and as they got closer, the smell of ganja overwhelmed them. They were hit with another wave when they opened the door to the home.

"You're paying to get my hair washed, Trina!"

Violet was forced to yell in her friend's ear. Music was blaring from a wall of speakers to her right. It was artistic in a way. They resembled something she'd seen at a museum last summer in Brooklyn.

The pair weaved through the crowd of people. Some looked like Oakland natives, some looked like hipsters, others looked like something else entirely. It was just mid-afternoon but there were already people here and there passed out drunk.

A group of older men sat around playing spades and cracking jokes at each other. The sight was strange, down to the cheap fold away table. The house was immaculately decorated and the table just didn't fit in. Violet figured one of the men probably brought it with them. Maybe they lived just on the other side of this house on a block that looked more like the Oakland she saw on TV. She and Trina squeezed around the men to enter the kitchen, where they found Devante, but more importantly for Violet—drinks. She was already eager to leave and they'd just arrived. She meant what she said about leaving when she got fed up, but it wouldn't have been fair to tell her best friend she was ready to go now. Especially not after she saw the way Trina and Devante made heart eyes at each other.

"What up doe? I'm Devante." He extended his hand to her and she took it hesitantly.

The first thing she noticed was his strong accent. He was an Oakland native. Devante also wasn't yelling. The kitchen was far away enough from the speakers that one could have a conversation without risking losing their voice from screaming. They talked for about 20 minutes, but it was a one-sided dialogue that consisted of Violet asking him questions and him answering. He took her interrogation in stride, responding patiently and thoughtfully. At the end of it, she decided he was corny as fuck. But in a good way, kinda like Nick Cannon, but with a West Coast vibe. Her gut told her he was OK, for now. She wasn't interested in watching the two of them carry on like teenagers, so she made her way out of the kitchen and back out into the crowd.

She quickly regretted her decision as she was tossed about in the sea of people. She held her drink close to her chest, a strategy she hoped would save the Henny in her red Solo cup. Violet huffed as she finally made it to the front porch and glanced inside. There was a corner left and she scowled at it like that would magically refill it. She shotted the remaining liquid and licked what was left of the spillage from her index and middle fingers.

"Damn girl. That's how you feel?"

Violet nearly broke her neck moving her head in the direction of the voice. It came from across the porch. A shadowy figure stood just out of clear view, which was strange because it was still daylight outside. She hadn't noticed before, but the porch was of the wrap around variety and this person stood just as the porch took a turn for the other side of the house.

"Excuse me?" She was embarrassed that someone had seen her, but she'd be damned if she let one of these Oakland dudes shame her.

Shame.

Hmm.

The shadow man took a step forward and revealed himself to be quite interesting. She had a habit of looking at men she met from foot to head. She used to judge a man on his shoes first. She wasn't as shallow as she had once been, but the habit of doing it never went away. He wore a pair of those sock looking sneakers, gray joggers and a fitted long sleeve Henley tee. His thick muscular frame filled in everything beautifully.

To put it simply, he looked good.

"You ain't never been to the Town before, have you?" He took a few more steps into view and sat on an outdoor couch on the opposite side of the porch.

"What town?"

"Guess not," he scoffed.

She scrunched her brows confused and annoyed. She didn't like not knowing something. Was the Town a club? Maybe he thought he'd seen her there befo—

"Oakland. That's what we call Oakland."

Oh.

She watched him as he rolled his sleeves up casually, but there was anything casual about the way his forearms looked. Violet's intuition sensors started going haywire. The alarms in her head were about as loud as the music inside the house.

"Want more?" A sly half grin swept across his face as he tempted her, waving a nearly full fifth of Hennessy at her.

"You looked like you wanted more...the way you were licking those fingers a second ago."

She stared at him, fuming. Even more embarrassed now.

"C'mere."

She didn't want to, those alarms were still warning her to stay away from this man.

But Hennessy.

She took a deep breath as she rose and walked to him. The few steps felt like miles.

"Sit."

Violet plopped to the far end of the outdoor couch.

"Why you all the way over there? You scared?"

Yes.

She hadn't been close to a man this fine since—never, actually. He was the finest man she'd ever laid eyes on. She was certain of it now that she was up close. The realization made her nervous.

"What's your name babygirl?"

"I'm not your baby or a girl. Are you going to give me some or not?" She raised her empty cup to his face. Her attitude and entitlement was almost unattractive but it was something different than what he was used to. She intrigued him.

He grinned again, shifting closer to her.

"Yea, but first lick your fingers again for me."

Violet yelped at the request. She'd never been asked something so vulgar in such a forward manner, by a complete stranger. Had she not been in the hood and had this man not been so damn fine, she likely would have slapped him and got up to find her friend. She instead just stared at him appalled, offended and anxious.

He crept closer, as close as he could get, approaching her like a jaguar ready to pounce. The shadow man's arm rested behind her head on the back of the couch, the smell of him refusing to be ignored.

Mahogany.

Coconut.

Cedar.

The combination of sweetness and spice made blood rush through her veins like whitewater in a rapid. He leaned into her neck and her eyes fluttered at how close he was. She could feel the heat leaving his body.

"I don't like to repeat myself, babygirl." He rested his hand on the curve of her neck, his thumb rubbed back and forth across the length of her throat. He finally gave her a bit more breathing room, but his hand stayed put.

Violet was a deer in headlights. Completely struck by the situation. His boldness. His beauty. His dominance. And that she was fighting the fact she liked it. She glanced down at her own hand seriously contemplating doing it. Not for the Henny, but because she wanted to please him.

She looked back up at him.

"I-I dunno—"

And suddenly her fingers were in her mouth. He'd grabbed her hand while she was distracted trying to make a decision.

Violet's eyes widened and she let out a soft whimper as he guided her fingers in and out her mouth.

"That's right. Look at me. You got some pretty ass eyes." He spoke his words slowly and carefully, allowing her to see the slugs on his lower canines for the first time.

She cursed herself in her head as she now willingly sucked and licked on her fingers, giving him what he wanted.

After he was satisfied, he removed her fingers from her mouth and studied how wet and blush her lips were now. The thought of sliding his dick between them made him twitch.

"Open up." He tapped the bottle to her lips and gave her a shot's worth before pouring more in her cup. He got up and headed for the front door.

"Where are you going?" Her question sounded desperate. He heard it too, the smug look on his face was a clear indication of such.

"We going back inside. C'mon."

Violet sprung up like a weed. She was surprised to see his hand outstretched to her. She didn't want to take it so easily, but she knew the mass of people standing around on the other side of the door would likely separate them if she didn't. She held his hand and marveled at how warm it was. She felt this odd sense of comfort holding it.

Violet's gaze then became fixed on his arms and those scars. She moved her hand above his wrist and gently padded the first few rows on his forearm. The touch made him jerk his head back at her and the look he gave scared her enough to move her hand back to his and keep it there.

She noticed her and Shadow Man's walk was much easier than hers and Trina's. People seemed to move out of his way as he approached them. Some moved out of the way with a look of awe, it seemed. Or was it respect? Maybe even fear? His stride was smooth and confident as he parted the crowd like Moses and she wondered just what she was doing with him. What possessed her to follow him in here, holding his hand? What did he have planned for her?

She was relieved when they approached that table with the men playing cards. Maybe they were headed for the kitchen and Trina could talk some sense into her.

"Y'all old niggas still playing? Ain't it time for y'all to report back to the nursing home?" The table erupted in laughter. Violet even snickered to herself a bit. The Shadow Man had a sense of humor it seemed.

"If you don't get yo' mop head ass outta here, E," one of the old men replied.

Another gentleman threatened to 'whoop his ass' like they used to for wearing that size ‘smedium’ shirt.

"Watch ya mouf unc!" Shadow Man joked. Or was it E? The first man called him E. It should've mattered. She didn't plan on telling him her name anyway.

Violet was disappointed to see that her best friend wasn't in the kitchen. That meant she was on her own in trying to be rational about this situation.

"Why you looking like that?"

She raised a brow at him.

"All worried and shit." He pressed his thumb against the wrinkles between her brows. She was sure he didn't mean for it to be, but the action was calming. She shrugged at him and that seemed to be answer enough.

There were still a few people milling about in the kitchen, but it mostly cleared out when they entered the space. He seemed to know the few stragglers still there and it made her wonder just who he was.

"Who are you?"

He laughed at her question as he leaned on the counter across from her. He was taking too long to answer and her mind raced with the possibilities of who he might be.

"I don't like repeating myself either...E." She took a satisfied swig from her cup.

That'll teach him.

Shadow Man didn't seem to like it though. He quickly stepped to her and forced himself back into her space, clenching his jaws.

"You went to college, huh? Prolly grad school too." Not the response she expected but he was right, nevertheless.

"Yea. And?" She didn't feel as intimidated as she had before.

Had to be the Hennessy.

"You smart." She smiled at his compliment.

"Problem is," he continued, "You think you smarter than me and everybody else in here."

E was also a good read of people. He knew her type and she stuck out like a sore thumb here, but only because of her bougie ass disposition.

"You not though." He cupped her ass firmly.

"See, I know I'm smarter than yo uppity ass...Cuz I knew you'd like my hands on you like this."

He slapped her behind and the sting rang across the kitchen. The short, thin dress she wore did nothing to muffle the sound. She started to look around her to see if anyone was looking but he grabbed her chin, keeping her eyes and focus on him.

"And you weren't smart enough to stay away from me." Her heart pounded. He was telling her everything she knew already.

"Why should I stay away from you?"

"Exactly, babygirl."

What? That's wasn't an applicable answer to her question.

He was watching her lips again, but this time she noticed. His tight little eyelashes blinked slowly at her pout before traveling back up to her 'pretty ass eyes.'

"You wanna kiss me,” she whispered.

"That's a question or a statement?"

"You tell me, since you so smart, E." He slapped her ass again for her sarcastic remark. This time she didn't try to scan the room for a potential audience. She didn't seem to care.

His frame enveloped her, despite her being a good 5'8" and thickly. She rarely felt small but she did now and it was a complete turn on.

One hand on her ass and the other on her face was how he started the kiss. She started it with a gasp. His lips were velvety soft. Her eyes were open at first. She had to make sure he was really kissing her. When she saw his were closed, she followed suit and was thrust into a kiss unlike any kiss she'd had in her life. Who knew thug type niggas kissed like this? It was rough, yet gentle and hot all at the same time. He pulled away from her only after suckling her full lips and finishing their kiss with a surprisingly sweet final peck.

She was stuck there for a moment, eyes still closed and leaning towards him. Until she realized he was gone. She looked back out the kitchen, past the old man card table and saw his short, stiff, dreadlocked ponytail hovering just above the crowd. She darted out the kitchen after him.

She found the courage to muscle through the crowd, because this time she had good reason to. Her own height assisted in her effort to keep an eye on the tips of his locs. Where the fuck was he going? The fact that he'd abruptly left after their kiss made a swell of insecurity rise up in her, yet she continued following him.

Violet felt some relief when she saw him heading up a flight of stairs above her. She hurried to the base of the steps and took a deep breath. She didn't want to be here just an hour ago and now she was following the Shadow Man up the stairs in some stranger's house.

Those pesky sirens in her head were blaring now. She could barely hear her own thoughts.

When she saw him disappear into the darkness of the hallway upstairs, her feet involuntary took the first step, and the one after that, until she found herself at the top looking down into the sea of people below. She continued down the dark hall looking for him. There was a slightly ajar door at the end of it that had a light shining from underneath it.

She pushed the door open slowly. There were sketches and what looked like computer parts all over the room. She gave herself a tour of the room and assessed that whoever lived in this house was probably a genius or at least smart as hell.

Impressive.

She was intrigued to the point that she momentarily forgot about him. When she was done being nosy, she headed for the door, flipped the light off and simultaneously felt two hands around her throat. The strength of the person was terrifying. It had only been a few seconds and she already felt lightheaded. Violet's arms flailed around, trying to grasp the light switch. If she was going to die tonight, she would at least see her killer. They must have sensed her plan and pulled her closer to them.

Mahogany.

Coconut.

Cedar.

"E...," she croaked as her hand made contact with the forearm of her attacker. His raised skin gave him away. She felt relieved that she knew it was him, despite the fact that his grip hadn't loosened around her neck.

"Please...I'm gonna...pass out..." she tapped at his hand and he released her.

"The fuck you doing up here, babygirl?!"

#erik killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x black!reader #killmonger x oc #erik killmonger #killmonger smut #killmonger x reader

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rickriordanfandam · 3 years

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opinions on riordanverse ; my edition

a lot of people have been doing this so i decided why not right. probably gna lose some followers or smth but anyways. pls respect my opinions! if u disagree, thats fine, but please be polite. unless any of my opinions strikes u as morally wrong then pls point it out to me respectfully. thanks!

- i actually liked drew. im so sorry to everyone who hates her but full offence, why. think about it this way ok, first of all drew became hc because silena died. silena was the traitor, the one who betrayed chb, yet after she died campers celebrated her as a hero? and then drew suddenly has to replace her and live up to idk that legacy she left behind,, when all of a sudden this girl named piper swoops in and takes her place. idk abt u but i wld be salty abt that too. not only that, but as an asian, the chances of drew having faced racism/bullying as a child is pretty high (she studies at brooklyn academy). which means that when she finds out shes a demigod, and arrives at chb where most of the campers are white (this is an assumption btw), she’d obviously be scared of being bullied for her skin color right?? so the first thing she wld do before the campers get to bully her is to bully them before they can do so. (sentence structure here is wack i apologize) ofc this might not even have happened, drew could have had a perfect childhood && was a b1tch for no reason, BUT EVEN THEN HER ROLE AS A BULLY WAS PRETTY VITAL BECAUSE THAT FURTHER SHOWED THE CONTRAST BETWEEN HER AND PIPER,, HIGHLIGHTING PIPER AS A HERO//GOOD CHARACTER,, AND THEREFORE MAKING READERS LIKE PIPER MORE. anyway stop hating on drew please. ALSO WHY IS THIS SO LONGA SDFJHG

- jason isnt bland, the fandom just kinda erased his backstory (thanks to @pjohoo-memes for the phrasing lol)

- reynabeth wouldnt have lasted/would have broken up several times. idk i just see them as two extremely powerful characters who have firm opinions and will definitely clash at some point. in a platonic relationship,, i can see them as really good friends but as lovers? idk i just think theyll break up

- PIPABETH

- i dont really like jercy,, i see them as better friends than lovers. also idt jason and percy were that close..?

- the dam and not my type jokes are srsly cringey and were never funny. ik that seems hypocritical since my username literally makes use of the dam joke but honestly i dont actually like the joke. its not funny to me and has never been funny

- the seven were not best friends. they definitely argued,, and honestly probably werent as close as the fandom makes them seem. like ure dumped with 6 other people, out of which u only know a few. my introverted ass would have jumped off the argo 2 quicker than leo valdez could bomb camp jupiter up. also leo was a dick to frank. so what if frank is bigger sized?? thats not a valid reason to tease him

- the fandom needs to stop hating on octavian while worshipping luke. if u hate luke and u say u hate octavian too, then okay. but if u tell me ure a luke stan but u despise octavian?? imma disagree w u. luke was worse than octavian im sorry. first of all, octavian being a dick was kinda justified. hes been after the praetor position for so long, and everyone keeps saying to “wait for jason” when suddenly this dude, whos a son of NEPTUNE (neptune wasnt liked much by romans), and the camp decides to make him praetor?? dude i would be pissed off big time. and then afterwards, he finds out that greek demigods are real and the dude they made praetor is greek. AND THEN GREEK DEMIGODS COME TO CJ AND ONE OF THEM BOMB IT UP?? octavian has been told all his life that greeks are scum and this dude called leo valdez attacks cj. sure it was an accident, but did octavian know that? no. so it was honestly justified that he was such a salty prick im just saying. also some of yall be hating on octavian for cutting a teddy bear open and thats the funniest shit ive ever heard i swear

- luke didnt go to elysium

- travis and connor stoll r way too underrated. the two have been head counselors of the hermes cabin since luke was revealed as a traitor, can u imagine the stress? luke, the person they probably looked up to as a brother, betrayed them. and they didnt even have time to process this when they were thrown the roles of being hcs. that would have been so stressful and i would probably have broken down if i were them. the stoll brothers taking turns to wake up at ungodly hours because a new camper is crying and homesick and terrified, the stoll brothers having to comfort and take care of new campers, having to deal with the amount of people in that cramped space because not enough campers are being claimed fast enough. having to resolve issues between campers in the hermes cabin all the time. the stolls arent just comedic relief, and we need to stop treating them as such

- tratie shldve been canon idc idc

- demigods of the demeter cabin arent talked about enough and i love the fact that meg was demeters kid. like she isnt the child of one of the big three yet shes so powerful.

- we need to hype clarisse up more her character arc was phucking amazing

- rachel is overhated. sis found out greek gods exist and regularly come down to earth to fuck around and went “ok cool”. queen shit behavior methinks

- the floor 19 crew of mcga is srsly underrated. like do u even remember halfborn gunderson, mallory keen, tj, etc??? bc i feel like we only remember samirah, magnus, alex, and sometimes blitz and hearthstone

- sadie (tkc) was kinda annoying at first. i like her more now tho but i rmb not liking her for a phat while

- tkc and mcga need more love

- carter kane and jason grace arent boring. theyre just really sweet boys who are too good for this world and yes yes yes

- hazel and frank (especially frank) need to be hyped up more. i hardly ever see anything about them. also yall seem to forget that frank was literally made praetor and that even hecate admired hazel and was willing to fight beside her because of how powerful she was

- frazels age gap is kinda sketch but i still think theyre really cute

- nico definitely had trauma from going to tartarus on his own

- GROVER IS PERCYS BEST FRIEND

- annabeth isnt smarter than leo but neither is leo smarter than annabeth. ive seen a lot of discussions about who is smarter and heres my hot take on it: neither. theyre equally smart, just in different ways. leos a genius mathematically speaking. he has no issues solving math problems meant for people much, much older than him. annabeth on the otherhand, is great at strategies etc. she can make an army of 1000 more powerful than the enemy, even if theyre outnumbered. so in my opinion, both are equally as smart//u cant compare their intelligence, because their talents lie in two different areas.

- while i do agree rick riordan isnt a god and that hes bound to make mistakes,, AND that hes given us a lot of representation,, if the representation offends the people its sposed to represent, then theres a problem. im talking about piper as a poc and wearing feathers in her hair. im not a poc, so i cant speak for them on whether or not its wrong, because i dont know either. HOWEVER, i have seen multiple posts BY pocs talking about how they didnt really like rick’s representation of piper, and thats an issue. pocs have been and are still oppressed and discriminated against by many. as a white cis man, we cant really blame him for not knowing (tho he could have done a research,, asked some pocs,, idk), but by representing pocs in that manner, hes influencing impressionable kids/teens into thinking “oh pocs wear feathers in their hair all the time” etc, which isnt true. the pjo/hoo series is extremely successful, and kids who read the books will probably start forming inaccurate opinions on pocs. the amount of fan art that depicts piper with feathers in her hair dont help either. “but rick said so in the books, so its canon” yeah well rick isnt a god and he can get some things wrong at times. im not saying we should cancel him, im saying we should start educating ourselves and not spread false info like pocs wearing feathers in their hair all the time. also that snake song shit where she sang Summertime was just- yeah. bc heres the thing you can be racist, and still include minorities, but portray them in a racist way. And even then, ignorance isn't a thing to admire. Getting those facts wrong still has a major impact. It continues to perpetuate racist stereotypes.

“ With the feather thing, I looked it up myself; it takes less than five minutes to figure out that Cherokees don't braid feathers into their hair. I didn't grow up in the country where my parents are from. I have many other first/second generation American friends who have also been through that, with a bit of a disconnect from their culture. But something that most of us have in common is that when we didn't know something, and when our parents weren't that big of a help, we looked it up. We sought out resources online and through other people from our culture to be able to connect more with where we came from. Some of that took a Google search. So I find it hard to believe that Piper, a girl who Rick's trying to portray as someone who is attempting to connect with her culture and is totally against racist stereotypes, wouldn't know that eagle feathers aren't supposed to be braided into your hair casually. She may be disconnected from her culture, but she's also shown to want to connect back to it. Piper wouldn't be casually braiding feathers into her hair while also telling off people for being racist. It makes no sense.” - reddit thread (down below)

for those of yall who wanna know more please please read this, it has a lot of things i wanna add in here : https://www.reddit.com/r/camphalfblood/comments/gy3gl2/piper_mcleans_portrayal_is_innacurate/

as well as https://finding-my-culture.tumblr.com/post/189422373260/maxie-ratties-and-cattie-finding-my-culture

i will be posting screenshots of these in future posts so if ure viewing this on ig and u dont have tumblr,, dont worry

- the fact that most of the strong female characters in the series refuse to be “girly”, and ngl i dont really like that. just because ure girly doesnt mean u cant be strong.

- piper would have been a great way for him to start making the strong characters act girlier, but instead he went with the “I’m not like other girls” trope which is quite obnoxious to hear constantly, and I don’t think it’s necessarily great for younger girls to read that idea growing up. the closest we've ever had to a strong female character who was also into "girly" things was Silena. when I was younger I admired Piper's "I'm not like other girls" thing, but then I got older and realized that the whole mentality of "not like other girls" is super obnoxious, and a little bit toxic

i have a heck load more that i cant rmb rn but yeah feel free to add more

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lesbianismellegreenaway · 3 years

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no nuance november except i do provide nuance because let’s be educated: criminal minds edition

1. spencer getting mad at jj and the whole fight thing during 7x02 was completely ridiculous. it was a spy mission and its the fucking fbi, jj couldn’t go around telling literal fbi secrets and when reid shoved his addiction at her, that was the biggest guilt tripping thing ever and jj didn’t deserve that at all (also reid getting snippy with her was not it and giving her the cold shoulder)

2. you guys ignore elle, morgan, and jj’s (and probably others but i’m blanking rn) trauma all in favor of reid. we shouldn’t compare trauma but the way you guys obsess over reid getting hurt yet when it’s a woman or a poc you guys just ignore it and then villanize them (jj and elle). it’s just sexist and racist and there’s no excusing it.

3. speaking of elle, you guys got mad at her for going rogue?? she killed a literal rapist???? like literally go her. but you guys got mad at her for snapping at the team??? that’s what trauma does to you like god forbid the traumatized woman snaps again, see point 2

4. idc what anyone says ashley seaver is annoying and was so god damn bland, call me sexist but i simply did not vibe with her especially when she was unnecessarilyrude to spencer (i probably don’t like her cause she was meant to be a younger jj cause cbs thought the show wouldn’t do well with older women)

5. speaking of people being rude to spencer, when they (the bau) tell him to shut up???? like it doesn’t take a profiler to know that he likes his facts and tid bits of info getting validated and when his friends shut him down??? like that’s not cool bro-

6. i am so sorry but i just hate how quirky garcia is like it’s just so annoying and i try to love it but i am so sorry i know everyone loves her but i simply am not on the same vibe length with her 😪✌️

7. someone should’ve called reid out for being a dick to emily during his addiction post revelations. like just because someone is going through it does not mean they get to be an ass (but i also do wish at least one of the team members comforted reid about his addiction besides that vague thing we got in jones with gideon because they comfort strauss but not their own team member?? huh??)

8. if you know that emily was supposed to be a lesbian and you still ship hotchniss (or any other emily/male character),,,, that’s lowkey homophobia luv

9. elle greenaway is a lesbian (have you SEEN her hatred of men, she was the stereotypical mean lesbian and good on her)

10. i know thomas gibson got fired but couldn’t they have written a better exit for hotch??? like my man just stopped showing up a few episodes and then got announced he was going into witness protection??

11. elephants memory is def one of the top 3 best episodes of criminal minds

12. writing maeve in..... was a choice. i love the actress (beth riesgraf) with my entire heart but she was the literal women in refrigerators trope and she honestly deserved better

13. the writers of the show making gay men predatory but not including gay men protagonists???? like ik cbs said no to bi!reid and lesbian!prentiss but the least you could do is like not make the lgbt community villains and predators when it’s a common stereotype???

14. the way you guys write jj so ooc in your fics- sexism❤️

15. on a final note, most of the cast has done something bad and lowkey problematic yet they haven’t done anything to improve even when they were called out,,,, stop stanning people you don’t personally know

#spencer reid #jennifer jareau #elle greenaway #derek morgan #maeve donovan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #ashley seaver #criminal minds #ashla rambles #penelope garcia #queue up in 30 #the bau

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whetstonefires · 4 years

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Do you think the DC fandom maybe, Infantilizes Tim a little too much? Like for a rich kid character who's main trauma for a long time was a getting left home alone too much there's an oddly amount of meta abt how much how much his parents hurt him~ compared to, y'know the two poor characters who grew up with physically abusive dad's+druggie mom's, or the two that were raised assassin cult's, etc

…well, yeah, I do kind of think that? His whole schtick for so long was being too old for his age in ways that didn’t sacrifice his jokey, relatable teenager energies. It’s weird how little of that we see anymore, sometimes.

And then DC broke him and discarded him and he’s sort of awkwardly hanging around getting reimagined as more woobie with every fan generation. It is weird!

But tbh I do get it. And I think the reason his parents’ failure of him and his vulnerability get played up so much, and Jason and Steph’s sufferings (while used a lot for things like motivation and context) not dwelt on quite so much in the same lugubrious style, are kind of the same reason.

Which is that canon didn’t commit to it. Jason and Steph’s experiences with bad parenting were foregrounded and retconned more dramatically awful several times. (There’s some definite classism in how that was approached imo, and I’m never budging on being mad about DC retconning out Catherine being sick and then ignoring her forever in all Jason characterization because a drug death invalidates a person ig, great message during the opioid crisis guys.)

They engaged and coped with it–Steph (and Cass, our #1 canon batfam parental abuse victim) pretty directly, Jason a little less so because of the dubious and fluctuating canon status of most of the content more specific than ‘poverty, homelessness, theft, parental drugs and crime in there somewhere,’ so most of his parent issues have been focused on Bruce. He sure has dug into them tho. 😂 Rarely well or productively, thanks DC, but it’s explicitly part of his character, is my point.

Whereas upper-middle-class Tim was always treated by the narrative as fortunate and unharmed by his experiences with his parents. Even though they were clearly behaving badly in several ways, and Tim showed signs of being harmed by it.

Tim outside of immediate moments of frustration always was of the opinion he was Fine, and Very Fortunate Actually.

Therefore a huge chunk of the numerous everyone who’s got parent-related mental and emotional harm, but has struggled to have that validated and hasn’t responded with a lot of anger toward the parent, identifies with Tim. The only one who’s never really lashed out at his parents for fucking up with him. The one who still needs it explored, because canon ultimately didn’t.

[editing post to put in a readmore because lol it’s long, post otherwise unchanged]

(Dick obviously didn’t ever have any Issues with the Graysons, but he Angry Teenagered at Bruce so hard it changed Bruce’s characterization permanently, rip.)

The things Jason, Steph, and Cass have been through are dramatic, obvious, and fit stereotypes because that’s what they’re based on.

That’s important content to have, but because it’s right out there in your face even people who identify with it quite a lot are less likely to feel the need to work all the way through it again in fanworks. That part’s there. It’s text.

(Well actually Jason having been physically abused kind of wasn’t? I think? It was mostly assumed on the basis of stereotyping and Jason’s not caring about the man much even as he felt possessive of information about his death, which is valid. I don’t actually know what’s up with Willis now, Lobdell did some weird shit that lacked emotional resonance or staying power because he’s Lobdell and has no soul.

Cass’ wandering years are also ludicrously underdeveloped. But very very few comics fans or writers can personally relate to being amazing child warriors with no grasp of language living feral under bridges. That part of her life is consistently represented in terms of absences, in terms of its deviation from the norm and the deficits of normality it left her with, which is typical but unfortunate.)

The interesting things to do with these characters are often informed by the bad stuff in their childhoods, but there’s relatively rarely that much more to say about the fact that those things were bad. They know they’re bad. They’ve had a lot of on-panel rage about it, as discussed above. Steph and Cass both beat the shit out of their dads.

Jason is, in fandom especially, a sort of Platonic ideal of a kid who’s mad about his bad childhood and really bad at figuring out where to point that rage.

(Damian is a whole other kettle of fish, because he’s been lumbered by so many detailed retcons coming so fast no two people can seem to construct compatible models of what his early childhood was like, and even more because he’s still ‘a child’ enough that he’s necessarily in a different stage of processing than someone who’s officially only a few years older than him at this point, but still functionally 8 and also 20 years older, and whose parents are no longer in the picture to continue screwing up.

Also there’s no question that if he brings up an abusive thing the League did, he will be validated by his current environment about his realization that it was in fact bad. There’s a lot of fic on that theme! But it doesn’t have the same tone precisely because it is usually understood that that support will be there if he wants it. Realizing that his previous context contained things that were wrong keeps being made the focus of his arc.)

The badness of Tim’s childhood, on the other hand, was mainly in subtext. Even when we were clearly meant to understand Jack was fucking up, like when he canceled plans with Tim at the last minute to go on a date with Tim’s stepmother, or that infamous time he came to apologize for not being a great parent and got mad Tim was distracted by a crisis on TV so he flew into a rage and took the TV and smashed it and was like ‘that’ll teach you,’ it wasn’t leaned into.

The story didn’t treat Jack as a minor villain to be overcome but like a sort of environmental hazard of childhood, like homework, to be endured and coped with. Tim said things like ‘it’s fine’ and ‘at least he left the computer.’

(And like. It’s not about having a TV and computer in his room. It’s about not letting a child have boundaries, pointedly not respecting a child’s possessions, creating an emotionally insecure environment, punishing minor infractions in proportion to their momentary impact on your own ego, physically lashing out at a proxy for the child…)

Rather like Tom King later didn’t understand about the punching from Bruce, whoever did that story (probably Dixon? I don’t care enough to check) did not understand how serious a case of bad parenting that scene was. That is most definitely textbook abusive behavior. (It’s a hell of a lot more common abusive behavior than being a lame supervillain or shooting you when you screw up, and a lot more specific than ‘was a thug, might have hit me, dead now.’)

And Tim was never allowed to be mad at his parents about it. It was fine. He needed to be ignored so he had the freedom to be Robin. He deserved his dad being mad at him because he was keeping secrets. He complained too much, although objectively he did not.

The universe punished him for ‘complaining,’ more than once. We cut straight from him shunting aside his disappointment that his postcard from his parents was just to say they weren’t coming home yet after all with ‘if it will stop all the fights they’ve been having lately it’s more than fine’ to them getting kidnapped.

He agreed not to come on the rescue mission. His mom never made it home, and his dad was in a coma for a while. And then ultimately Jack died as a result of Tim’s decision to be Robin, immediately after finally deciding to accept it.

So Tim walks around feeling a huge burden of responsibility for his parents’ deaths, and completely unable to process any hurt they did him as real or valid, especially in comparison with the far more blatant awfulness other people have been through, and canon is clearly never going to address it. Or even acknowledge it properly.

Let me repeat that because it’s kind of my main point:

People are fixated on getting Tim’s emotional abuse validated because that’s an incredibly important step in recovering from emotional abuse, and it’s one canon consistently denied him.

How ‘bad’ things are ‘in comparison to’ problems other people have is a bad and unhealthy way to engage with trauma. Okay? That’s just a really harmful framework to apply to pain.

It’s also a way that both Tim and people with experiences similar to Tim’s are encouraged to engage with their own experiences, compounding the existing problems.

So. Not a form of relatable DC was ever actually aiming for when they tried so hard (and pretty effectively) to make him a relatable character as Robin, but an enduring one for a lot of fans.

So Tim’s childhood is a natural target for fanworks in a different way than the traumas that have been made explicit and taken seriously by the text. And then a lot of that got compounded by the way the introduction of Damian as Robin was handled, and the lack of resolution that got. And his current status as not quite having a place in the family anymore.

So between the level of projection encouraged by that context and how relatively difficult to access Tim’s Robin run has become ten years after the fact, this has led to a lot of fanworks on these themes that are based mostly on other fanworks, and stray further and further from the original content.

So at this point there’s an entire wing of Tim’s fandom wherein this side of him has expanded enormously, and he primarily exists to suffer, frequently in ways that 1) escalate to a point that is inarguably ‘valid’ and hard to dismiss and 2) set him up to rebound from it in whatever way the writer finds emotionally satisfying or useful–being ultimately cared for and reassured by people who value him (the most infantilizing option but like, popular for obvious reasons), or unveiling his brilliant scheme that was causing him to pretend to be passive in the face of mistreatment, or turning around and using his genius ninja skills to wrest power back from his abusers, or just laying down some sick burns about being treated fairly.

But not that many of the last one, because that’s mostly done with other batfam members.

Tim’s become a vehicle for a lot of vicarious coping that Steph and Jason just aren’t appropriate for, because they get angry and they get even. And those are stories that exist already, so there’s less scope for telling your own.

And because Jason’s reaction pattern is ultimately so masculine (i’ll make them all sorry! with my guns! blam blam!) while Tim’s is pretty gender-neutral, the demographics of fanfic mean that the bulk of the people using Tim vicariously in this manner are female-aligned, which has over time feminized this archetype of him a lot. Sometimes in ways I find really uncomfortable, like there’s a lot of forced pregnancy stuff which activates my panic buttons. x.x

But, ultimately, it’s fandom. People are going to do what they’re going to do, DC in their perpetual fail has hung Tim out to dry in narrative terms, and I’d rather the people who are using Tim for victimization narratives over the people who can’t dismiss or discredit him fast enough now that his position has been filled. 🤷‍♀️ What we gonna do? Fave’s in an awkward spot. DC hates us. This is the life in this comic book pit. XD

Also if you’re the same anon who left me a callout about op of that weird Steph post in my inbox, or if you aren’t @ that person, 1) I refuse to get involved so I’m not answering that ask 2) those aren’t even particularly dramatic fandom crimes? That’s pretty normal? That’s just…Caring Too Much About Ships And Disagreeing With Me.

Do I also feel those opinions are kinda bad? Yeah. But I disagree with everyone about something. Chill.

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legacysam · 3 years

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"#*erases a rant about fandom cas characterization bc god who has the energy*" me. i have the energy. give me the rant.

*cracks knuckles* okay let’s see if any of these particular intellectual muscles still work.

I am always pro-cas-being-canonically-dickish posts (even if they are misleading one way or another, more on that later) because dear GOD this fandom loves to infantalize the man. He’s a “baby in a trenchcoat.” He’s dumb about pop culture and clueless about human things isn’t it adorable? SHUT UP!!!! And pls especially shut up if you’re using his ignorance as a way of making another character look cool or smart by comparison. “it’s a shortened version of my name” was 100% Cas fucking with Dean because he is a dick sometimes! and it’s great! Also: Cas’s indifference to pop culture isn’t a weakness just because pop culture knowledge is a major currency on tumblr!!! It’s indicative of the fact that he’s got much bigger and more important things on his mind. (Also. listen. This trait was canonically erased by Metatron and it was literally the only good thing that fucking character ever did so can we please as a fandom just acknowledge that little slice of canon? pls?)

(Can I also just say.....fish out of water stories are only good when they are on the side of the fish and not just using the fish to make jokes. Just. as a note on the trope in general but specifically re: every time this shows up in fanfic with Cas or any other similar character. Thor comes to mind.)

Anyway Cas isn’t a child, he’s ANCIENT and TIRED and CONFLICTED about major moral issues, which is FASCINATING for an angel character and forces us as an audience to consider more deeply the actual differences between heaven and hell, good and evil, destiny and free will. Is this how we expect an angel to behave? What does this tell us about Heaven? If Cas is an aberration, what does that tell us about Heaven and goodness and God? So his expressions of anger and frustration and his impatience with or indifference to human courtesies are a really great part of his character and people should appreciate them more (and not just when it’s funny!)

(Sidenote bc I always think about this when I think about fandom and Cas, the reductive fandom approach to “””crazy!cas””” (what a fun way of saying “deeply affected by horrible trauma and guilt and trying to repress it so he can function.” thanks for that fandom) as comic relief or a woobified victim is. hm. bad. That’s all I’ll say about that one.)

{ANOTHER sidenote, this one for fan artists in particular but fan writers definitely aren’t free from sin: Cas isn’t pale or short and he isn’t a fuckin twink pls stop projecting weird m/f stereotypes onto your queer ships pls and thank}

ANYWAY about these screenshots specifically: Listen I love this post but the context of these scenes is SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING than Cas being a dick to Sam. They aren’t really about Sam at all, actually. “Don’t ask stupid questions” is such a painful fucking response to Sam asking if he’s okay, because he’s clearly not okay--he’s still struggling with the knowledge that God has given up and abandoned them--but he can’t be vulnerable about it. So he redirects to ask what Sam needs from him because that’s what he does, it’s what he is, he’s a tool. He’s a solution to problems (except his own). And his unwillingness to confront his pain (while also not being able to hide it) isn’t really about his relationship with Sam, it’s about his relationship with God and with himself and his own failures. The visibility of that struggle while he continues to try to help in this episode is just really fucking moving, okay?

Also there’s absolutely nothing hostile about “Sam, of course, is an abomination” in context. Like. Not a damn thing. There’s a task that needs to be performed by a “servant of heaven,” and Cas is explaining why none of the three of them qualify, and we know he feels shame about the fact that HE doesn’t qualify by how he reacts later, calling himself a poor example of an angel. He’s as much an abomination as Sam is in this moment.

Actually you know what? Literally everything in these screenshots that gets interpreted as “Cas hates Sam” is 100% actually Cas hating himself. He hates Sam’s voice while he’s stuck using a human voice himself to communicate, through technology he’s hostile to because it’s limiting compared to angelic communication. He rejects Sam’s compassion because he doesn’t want to talk about his own weakness. He calls Sam an abomination in the same breath that he acknowledges that he isn’t a servant of heaven anymore, and with much less anger than when he later calls himself a poor example of an angel. He sees himself in Sam but he hates himself too much to use that as a point of connection and pushes away from it instead. (I’m not going to go on a shipper detour here but sastiel shippers....you know)

So Cas is angry and complicated and self-hating and yeah, it’s funny, but if you don’t respect those feelings and their complexity, maybe don’t try to write Cas or write about him. Maybe if you only like Cas when he’s making you laugh you don’t actually like Cas.

And this isn’t to be like...”writing fluffy shippy fic with Cas being sweet is bad” or whatever. That fills a need for some people, I get it. I’ve written fic where he’s sweet! There’s a difference between someone lovingly wrapping a character in a blanket and going “nice things will happen for you now” versus using that character for a reductive joke.

There’s also a difference between people who are actually carefully writing fic and people who are, yknow, tagging posts or circulating meme-like gifsets with this kind of commentary. Which, bc I don’t read fic as often anymore, tends to be the most common way anything like analysis of Cas reaches me. I do NOT recommend this method of engaging with fandom because it’s really the worst, unfunniest, most simplistic takes that get repeated over and over again (I would pay money to never see anyone call Sam “moose” or “sammy” again dear lord), and it obscures the actually really good work some folks are doing when they write these characters.

tl;dr 1. Cas is not a child and he is not stupid. 2. Cas doesn’t hate Sam but he DOES project onto him and it’s fascinating. 3. fandom wants to be transformative but bc of meme culture and the way tumblr works it can be painfully reductive and it’s exhausting

ps nb I haven’t watched a single episode since they killed Charlie off and I don’t know much about what happened after that lol. so don’t come at me “well actuallying” bc honestly I don’t care and bc canon has been a dumpster fire for years and all extended analysis of it including my own is really nonsense just by virtue of the source material being nonsense.

pps the showrunners are ABSOLUTELY complicit in this but I can’t. I just cannot get into that. I am too tired.

#i just spent an hour and a half thinking deeply about supernatural you bastard #jk ilu #apparently i still had feelings about this jfc #ALSO (i know shut up mel nobody asked) 99 problems would be one of the best episodes #if they didn't seem to write it specfically for dean to make 'wh*re' jokes #cabalakh #@ everyone who followed me after i stopped watching spn.....#i am so sorry #supernatural #fandom critical #castiel

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maybeshesnaped · 4 years

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I don't support jk rowling, I don't think she made a good deal to speak publicly in that way. But. I don't think she "attack" anyone. I'm nonbinary and I don't feel attacked by her, other queer and trans don't feel attacked by her too. Then, ALL you stated about the "proves" in her books that she is the awfullest being on earth is internet trash exaggerated by haters.. And bit racist too. Bankers are goblins, so racism, because all Jews are bankers...??? I would feel offended that people assume I am a banker because I'm Jew... Chang is a common chinese surname, Cho maybe not a good choice for a forename (I checked with some Chinese friends), Rawling is not Chinese, and publishers didn't correct it. They have their responsibility too on this type of mistakes. HIV IS A SERIOUS ILLNESS that caused the death of thousands of people, especially in the late 80s / 90s when HP was written, it changes the life of someone for the rest of their existence, personal and work relationship, etc. Negate that is denial. Then I don't think licantropy is as much a metaphor for that, but still, I don't see a bad representation in Remus Lupin. He is one of the most positive character in HP.

At last. Yes. I will unfollow you. But I gave you my opinion. And I add an advice. Being so hateful to jk Rowling brings absolutely nothing. It's a huge lie that the WHOLE trans community is against her, and this war to her is another (yes, another cause she has being hated from a while before this transphobia thing) rumble by haters. And online there's a lot of people who have to find something to be hateful, a reason for their hate to spread.

Again, I don't support her, she didnt make her mind clear before those statements. Her fears do not involve trans people, but criminal CIS MEN. And no, she never addressed trans as criminals, but she gave the impression to do that, which was the mistake. Everybody has fears, phobias, she was abused, has a trauma, pretty understandable she fears men. But her personal fears should not have carried her to write those comments publicly. Then if you feel angry for some reason jogging in the park is much more healthy than rumbling on the internet.

whew, there’s a lot to unpack here

while i do agree that not all trans/queer people took offense at jkr’s stance, that doesn’t take away the fact that the majority did. in addition, what i disagree with in your post, is that jkr’s harmful opinion is solely focused on criminal cis men.

jkr is a person who wrote a whole ass book about a man who dressed as a woman and killed women. she really and shamelessly went into such great lengths to vilify trans women.

“One wonders what critics of Rowling’s stance on trans issues will make of a book whose moral seems to be: never trust a man in a dress,” Jake Kerridge writes in his review.

she is also the kind of person who praised a woman who compared being transgender to doing blackface as i showed in this post

she is also the kind of person who promoted an anti-trans shop that sells disgusting anti trans items. a shop that sells pins saying “trans women are men” and “notorious transphobe”.

Other items they sell include pins that say “Woman is not a costume” and “Transmen are my sisters” and “Sorry about your dick bro” and “XX (female)” and “F*ck your pronouns” and “Transactivism is Misogyny,” some of which even display the trans flag just in case their hateful rhetoric wasn’t clear enough

it’s pretty clear that she doesn’t only target criminal cis men, yes???

and don’t tell me that she might not have known and all that naive bullshit. she knows what she’s doing.

the few men who take advantage of trans people’s struggles should NOT be the talking point on whether they, as a group, deserve rights, love, and acceptance. PERIOD.

the fact that you can’t see that she targets the entire trans community and that you say you don’t support her only because she voiced her opinion publicly, tells me that you do in fact support her, if only she kept her views to herself. so i’m glad you unfollowed me.

as far as her use of stereotypes in HP are concerned, again, you are mistaken. you “don’t think lycanthropy is a metaphor for that” you say, but jkr herself says it is. comparing an illness like HIV/AIDS to being a monster who actively harms others is not okay, despite the author’s intentions. it’s simply a very poor-thought out metaphor.

lastly, jkr may not even have realized that she uses anti-semitic tropes in her work. but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

Connor Goldsmith, a literary agent says: “Rowling’s goblins are nakedly anti-Semitic caricatures — a race of gnarled, hook-nosed misers obsessed with gold, who believe they own everything they’ve ever produced and wizards who purchase things only ‘rent’ from them. They appear to run the entire wizarding economy, and trust no one but their own kind. It’s suggested that secret cabals of goblins work to undermine the wizard government. The fact that these creatures appear in a book series which is ostensibly an allegory for the Holocaust is as distressing as it is bizarre; one hopes Rowling didn’t intend to create such a caricature, because it really undermines her project, but intent isn’t really what matters at the end of the day.”

i and many others agree that she did use anti-semitic stereotypes. and there’s plenty of arguments to support our position. do with that what you will. sadly, you seem to make a lot of incoherent excuses about all the unfortunate elements she used in her books.

i’m not by any means saying we should cancel the books and reject them because of all these problematic features. i am saying however that they need to be recognized and discussed, just like jkr’s militant and very evident transphobia.

i am angry, and we all should, because her views are dangerous and harmful. gaslighting us and saying “go for a jog” simply because we express our very legitimate anger and dissapointment regarding a beloved author who shaped many childrens’ lives and ended up invalidating their very existence, only makes you look like a jerk, not someone with an argument to be taken into account.

#this is my opinion #i am a cis woman so i might be wrong somewhere #if so i am open to discussion in the dms #anti jk rowling #ask

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joshslater · 4 years

Text

Russian Dolt

Another Hank collab. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I was just about ready to give up and head back to the hotel. I’ve spent 16 years being a sales representative across Southeast Asia, and I know all the regional variations on the prostitutes fairly well. Here in Manila, a Russian girl would go for at least twice the price of a local. A Malay girl would go for a discount. But too much of the same old thing grows boring, and that’s why I was out in the bars tonight instead of just calling an escort to the hotel for a “massage”.

I wasn’t sure what I was after, to be honest, which was part of the problem. Maybe a threesome? A gymnastics girl doing tricks for me – and on me? I’ve heard that in some countries the Olympic teams even earn some side money in brothels. I’ve never found it myself, but that would be something different at least. So far nothing I had found had really turned my crank. I was polishing off a mediocre whiskey when I was approached at the bar by the man.

The guy was younger than me, maybe 25, and looked very Russian. Buzzed hair, tank top, tight jeans, flip flops, cheap tats and the don’t give a fuck attitude that their entire nation has adopted since they lost the Cold War. He smelled of smoke and cheap cologne. He looked to be in great shape. I didn’t want anything to do with him.

“I overheard you speaking of freak sex, yes?”

The accent was heavily Russian as well. This could be exactly what I was after, but it could also end up with me robbed and dead in a ditch.

“What’s it to you?”

“We have proposal. Have you had sex as not you?”

Despite the hot and wet climate, I could feel a wall of heat radiating on my other side as one real furnace of a man stepped closer to me. I turned my head and looked right into a black tank top. It was filled with a huge pile of meat. I looked up at his face and he made a silent nod. Perhaps not as stereotypically Russian, but still very much old Soviet stock, and presumably lots of old Soviet hormones, not all his. His muscles seemed to have muscles.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Sex as not me?”

“We have a thing that lets you do sex as if someone else. Understand? You could be me?”

“I could be you? Who would you be?”

“I would be you, for short time. Very short. Then you as me do any things, dangerous things. Nasty things. But safe for you. When finished, you are you and I am I.”

I was thinking really hard on how this scam worked. Was this just going to trick me out of 5000 pesos, or was the end goal to take me for all I was worth? The setup was intriguing. Performing sex as someone else… I’d certainly never tried that before. I didn’t want to let fear hold me back, in part because I knew, loathe as I’d be to admit it, that it often did.

“What kind of nasty things?” I finally answered.

“Many different things. You chose. How about fucked by wrestler?”

He gestured towards the pillar of meat on my other side. That surprised me. Back home where I grew up there was a lot of "God hates fags" and crude gay jokes, but I always thought it was a bit obsessive. It's a free country so they can do whatever they want, as long as they keep me out of it. I’d never had sex with a man before, obviously. Never even considered it. I was about to protest how I wasn’t a fag, when a small little voice at the back of my head pointedly said “Damn straight, but apparently he is one.” Well, if I was going to be someone else, then why not go for something truly wild and different? Something I would never put my own body through.

“How does it work? How do we do it?”

“We put your body somewhere safe. To keep your mind off it. Then we swap. When you are done, we swap again. 3000 pesos per hour.”

Twenty minutes later, if even that, the three of us were standing in my hotel room. The lobby was deserted, save for the night manager who gave us a disapproving look on our way to the elevator. On the way up, I made a quick estimate of what everything I brought was worth. I only had my carry on, some clothes, my laptop, cell phone and travel wallet. If I was completely cleared out by these guys, I could stay an extra day, have the cards blocked and reissued, use insurance to buy replacements, and be on my way. Not much to lose, really.

The big hunk of meat was Boris, because of course he’d be a Boris. He didn’t speak any English. The sleazy guy in the wifebeater was Mikhail, and he was now explaining the details of how he proposed we do this. He had a handcuff with a really long chain, so I could be cuffed to the bathroom water pipe and still make it to the bed. This would allow Mikhail, in my body, to stay securely in the room, watch TV, use the bathroom and such and such while I was out in his body. I was full of doubt. Step one really can’t be that I chain myself with handcuffs to the bathroom pipes? Mikhail saw my hesitation without me saying anything.

“You want to see first, yes?”

“Please.”

From his pocket he pulled out two thumb rings. They were plain iron rings with no inlays, but with engraved symbols running around them, which gave them a brutish look. He gave me one.

“Sit down. Put it on, right hand.”

I did as I was told, and nothing happened. He sat down next to me on the bed and unceremoniously slipped on his ring. Instantly, everything shifted a few feet to the side, and I suddenly looked out of his eyes instead of mine. It worked. It felt amazing.

His body was in such great shape. I ran my hand over the buzz cut stubble on my head, feeling the prickliness of it against my palm. Then, swiftly, just as quickly as I had jumped into his body, I was back in mine, looking at my hand. Mikhail had just removed the ring.

“You can see it works. You want to continue, yes?”

I sure did. I could scarcely believe this technology was legit. Perhaps it was magic. I know, magic isn't real, but then neither are body swaps. I put the ring back on, and wow, the rush. I was back in Mikhail’s body.

Mikhail patted me and got up. It was so trippy to see my body moving next to me. He quickly locked the handcuff to to his left wrist and then stepped into the bathroom to attach the other end of the cuff. He then stepped out again and gave me the key.

“Here, keep this safe. My suggestion would be to put it in the room safe, so you don’t lose it in the excitement.”

To my shock, he was talking fluent English now, without any accent.

“I will do,” I answered, immediately laughing a dumb Russian laugh. Wow, how stupid my own voice sounded. I sounded just like Mikhail in voice, accent and whacked English.

I immediately realized that whatever these rings did wasn't simply placing my brain inside Mikhail's body. That would just change the voice. But to also changed my accent and even words and grammar, which hinted at something more complex. It somehow both frightened and excited me, and I felt a stir in my pants. I wondered what else would be different, what else this body I now inhabited might be made of.

I put the key and my wallet in the safe, and locked it with 7478. Same code as my old phone, based on the Boeing 747-8 plane. As an international businessman I've had many trips on those. Boris started moving and ushered me out of the room, almost impatiently. As the room door clicked shut, I realized that I’m standing outside of my room with no key, no ID, a different body, and next to this oversized hunk of meat. I reminded myself that I can, at any moment, just remove the ring and appear back in the room. I could then open the safe, grab the key, unlock the shackles on my own body, and pretend like nothing had happened. As long as I have my hand free to remove the ring, there is no need for a safe word tonight. I chuckled with Mikhail’s voice at my own internal pun.

The feeling was amazing, getting accustomed to the body. I could tell my first thought was spot on: this bod was in great shape. It was lithe, almost sprightly compared to where I was at normally. Toned and packed with just enough firm muscle to have a bit of a swagger, it seemed. As we strode out of the hotel and into one of the waiting taxis, I ran a hand through my buzzed hair once more, feeling the spike of the flat cut against my palm. I tugged a little and played with the studs in my ear lobes.

Is this how fags felt, I wondered? Are these sort of bodies part of where their pride and sex drive comes from? I hadn’t given any thought before to the idea that men who are attracted to men might find their own bodies hot, too. I looked down at my forearms, noticing the fit power in them, the veins lightly popping. It did look good to me. I could feel queer thoughts, but I wasn’t ashamed or repulsed by them. This wasn’t me, but I could tell it could be very hot to play the gay. And looking at my arms, I felt an erotic buzz. I was starting plump up a little. I was legitimately turned on.

“In Soviet Russia, you not find faggot. Faggot find you!” I said out loud, laughing, thinking that I sounded even dumber than Mikhail did in this voice. One of my favorite jokes finally had a body worthy of it. Both Boris and the driver ignored me.

I suppose Russians didn’t usually make such a classic Russian joke, did they? Or did they? This really was the most out-of-body experience I’ve ever had, quite literally. Talk about risk versus reward payoff. I had to do it again.

“In Soviet Russia, big dick find you!” I found myself slurring, stupidly, and just hearing the ridiculous accent come out of Mikhail’s mouth, a mouth that was mine for the time being, made me snort with laughter again. I didn’t expect that the first few things I’d be doing in this body would be laughing my ass off. It was truly surreal. But it was hilarious, I mean, wow. Maybe it was my way of trying to find my sea legs after such radical change.

We arrived at a different hotel only 15 minutes away from mine, but looking at it they couldn't be further apart. If Mikhail and Boris looked seedy in the lobby of my hotel, they would appear posh in this neighborhood. I was still not used to this body, and wobbled a bit getting out of the taxi. Boris stopped and waited by the hotel entrance while I made a few jumps to test that everything is fine.

“Boris,” I say, my voice reminding me of some squirrel and moose thing – Natasha – Rocky and Bullwinkle – I can’t get over this accent –

“Boris, where is room?”

I find that I almost have a feel for the way the Russkies talk, I think, and that if I just roll with it, I’ll be able to work with it almost effortlessly. Boris started leading me into the hotel and down a hall. He stopped by a door and opened it, with a real key. Not one of those card reader doors. He entered the room and I followed.

First thing I did was to swagger on over to the mirror. I didn't get a good look while in my room before Boris ushered me out. Yeah, I pretty much looked amazing. This body, or whatever sense of sexual desire was in this bod, recognizes male beauty in a way that wasn’t apparent to me at all as a straight guy. This body is fit, it is toned, it is more tanned than I would have expected from a Russian guy. He must have been in The Philippines for a while now, I figured. The tats, which I thought looked like cheap pieces of shit from a budget tattoo parlor before, looked masculine, tough, and sleazy.

I looked like the mirror image of a guy who lived to fuck, drink, smoke and party, I thought- And I could feel that I was craving a smoke, too. But man, that mirror… I was boned, totally erect over a man for the first time in my life, even if it just was myself, in a way.

Mikhail had been wearing that rich brand of underwear to try to act like he was worth something, I suppose. What’s the name of it? I can’t even remember, not being an underwear type myself. To me, despite whatever he must have spent, the briefs and tats all just made him look cheap and trashy. But I liked it. It’d be perfect for tonight. I fully intended to take advantage of it all, go out for a while, have fun and bring someone back tonight. If things stayed chill, I was ready to fuck. Boris looked bored, and wasn’t even really watching me, so I was guessing things were cool.

I recalled Mikhail had blurted something out earlier about “Fuck Wrestler,” which I presumed meant Boris. And I had been thinking maybe I’d do that, initially, not really being sure what I’d do. But now that I was attracted to men, apparently, I really just didn’t think Boris was my type. Or this body’s type. Or whatever. He didn’t seem to be into me, either. I like the look of Mikhail’s body for sure, and it’s almost mesmerizing to me. Breaking away from the mirror is a bit of a challenge, I notice, as I put my tank top back on. Maybe the old line about Narcissus isn’t so far from the truth after all.

“Boris, I want to go to bar,” I said. “Gay bar. You know where?” “да,” the oaf answered.

I understood it as "Yes", of course, but I understood it in a fluid way. Could I speak it, too?

“Вы можете общаться со мной на русском языке?” I blurted to see if he could understand me. My own words sound like something an insect would come up with. They buzzed. They sounded slushy, and they sounded like shit. I really don’t know how folks can speak such an ugly language, how anything could evolve in such a strange way.

“да.” he said again, without any emotion.

There’s some male jewelry on the counter, I noticed as I started to turn out the lights. Dog tags, a pendant. I picked them up and put em on. Looks good- Wonder if Mikhail walked around with that, normally. The whole walk to the bar, I couldn’t help but to act cocky, shifting my posture, feeling playful with this body. Boris, as I found out by trying to chat him up, despite him being a man of few words, did have a pack of cigarettes to help me out with. Soon I’m bumming a couple off of him, and as soon as I could get away with it outside of the lobby, I light up.

The guys walking around Manila that we passed – some are kind of, I don’t know how to put it…not ugly, but not really attractive. I wasn’t really drawn to the girls, I noticed, but not the guys either, all that much. Some of them caught my eye a little more than others. I hoped when we got to the bar that I would find one of the Russians I was expecting to be there. Was that what my genes were hunting for, or was that what I just was expecting to find? A Russian? Would I be attracted to a German, a Frenchman or an American if I ran into any? Good luck picking one up with this voice, I thought to myself. But this is a sexy body. I bet I could pick up a lot of different kinds of guys. Gays aren’t really known for being particular, I thought. At least they’re known to do a lot of depraved shit with anyone. They aren’t like women. They have it easy, so I should too.

The thought of trying to hit on a guy, though I had no clue how to do it, seemed amusing. I felt a tinge of nervousness, but then I remembered this isn’t my real body. I could say anything. There’s a wallet in these jeans and I flipped through it. Was that arranged? There’s enough cash in there, 400 pesos, to drink for a while depending on the prices. I wonder if Boris would loan me more, but how smashed would I really gonna get? It should be more than enough.

Soon we were in the bar. I eyed the field. I spotted my prey almost instantly. Dark beard, full, thick. Bomber sunglasses tank top, twists of tribal tattoo down one arm. I wondered what sort of guy wears glasses in a bar, and I was thinking, fag guys do. And that’s you too, fag boy, so hop to it. And it was alluring, even as I knew it was done for affect. I didn’t care. He was hot.

I didn’t sit down by him right away, though. Boris and I took a spot at the corner, by the entrance. Soon enough, though, I wink at him on his way to take a piss. Why not? Nothing to lose, man.

Once he was out of sight Boris stood up, and surprised I asked him if he was going to leave. I kind of expected he would stick around to make sure I didn't do anything too stupid with Mikhail's body. He smiled for the first time, patted me too hard in the back, responded "Ты справишься" and left. And with that I was on my own.

Well, that’s all fine with me, because I was worried these guys might think I already scored Boris or something. Didn’t want that crimping my game. I was totally comfortable on my own, too. Fuck, it’s not my body. Still can’t get over how liberating it was to just know it.

The night got rolling, more folks were trickling into the club, and Bomber Glasses and I were talking, finally. He is German, but does speak some English. This body did the work for me, I thought. He was into me. I couldn’t help but be fixated at his beard, man, and the chest hair that foofed out of the top of his tank. He has a dog tag of his own around his neck. It’s all so sleazy and fucked up. It’s weird, knowing that what once would have repulsed now allured.

Soon he was buying me a drink. I wondered if I was attracted to powerful guys, as this was the first one who caught my eye out of the bunch, not that there were many to choose from. He was at least a good three inches taller than me. Darker complexion. Thicker hair, and of course that beard. That chest. Mine’s got just a little fuzz. I started to wonder if Russians were a hairy people compared to Germans. I didn’t think they really were, but some definitely are. The train of thoughts caught me by surprise. I’ve never before considered how hairy guys are. Must be the fag in me for sure. Wondered what mixing with this body for the night is gonna do to my mind, long-term. You know, like what if it’s like the long-term effects of a powerful dose of shrooms? That might not be good, depending. It felt OK in the trial swap we did earlier, so clearly it reverts without any seeming issues, but then that was just after a few seconds.

No time to be nervous, though. I wanted to get my money’s worth.

Now the guy’s looking at me, intensely, right in the eyes over drinks, and I was feeling like maybe the gays have a point about wanting their public display of affection. I was feeling like if this guy wanted to fuck out in the streets of Manila with me, I’d do it, despite the filth and chaos. By the time he was kissing me, right in the bar, and I was feeling his thick beard press into my jaw, and we’re speaking our stupid, malformed English to each other, all I could think about was the hard cock that might end up in my ass tonight if this kept going well. I wantws this guy to come back to the hotel with me.

“You and I,” I said, between kisses. “Go wild, with sex, you make sex with me. Hot as sex,” I went, fascinated by the chest hair he was got spilling out of the neckline, rubbing it with my fingers, playing with it, all as best as I could. He was trying to slobber on my earlobe stud and probe my tongue with his ear. We’re making a scene in the bar. I couldn’t care less. He stripped my shirt off right then and there in the bar so he could see my chest. He was playing with my pecs, rubbing the muscle, slapping my firm belly, my firm biceps. “Flex for me,” he commands. I've never done that in my life before, and don't really know how, but somehow I manage to make some tight abs for him. He is lost in admiration, I could see.

We walked out the backdoor of the club, his fingers in the back pocket of one of my jeans, not just kinda steering me, as I’m rather sloshed, but claiming me. Showing who is the top. He squeezed an ass cheek through the denim, and I loved it. He leaned in for another kiss. It’s a steamy night. I needed a smoke, so I lit one up, buzzed up, feeling dreamy as hell, wondering what "nasty things” would actually going to be like. A cock up my ass? I could take one, fuck if I care. Sounded glorious right then. I wondered if I could feel that desire in my ass that they supposedly get? Not yet, I thought, searching my thoughts to see if I felt anything, and decided that maybe it’s because I haven’t tried it, yet. I wanted to try it. This German guy, a man, had me feeling like a creature of beauty. I felt beautiful in a way no woman had ever made me feel before.

I can scarcely remember the walk back to the hotel, for all the alcohol, hormones and groping. I remember wanting to be rather cautious the whole while. Manila is just loaded with chaos, deep pits and potholes you can step into, nothing in the way of sidewalks, not to mention motobikes and jeepneys. The hotel was much too close to bother with a cab.

I remember thinking that the longer I stayed in this body, the more risk I was taking, but I’d come this far tonight and intended to finish it. We didn’t set a time limit. “When you are done” was the deal. That made sense, as they got paid by the hour. They’d want to give me time to fuck until I’m sick of it, presumably by dawn at the latest, and I would obviously want my body back. This set of jeans didn’t even come with ID, and most of my few bucks had already been spent at the bar.

As for the sex, this guy was experienced. I figured as much, but found it out fast once we were in the bedroom together. I mean, I had barely latched the door behind me when he really flaunted his power, flipping me right around, pressing my back up against the door, passionately taking my jaw in his big hands and kissing me, licking me, tenderly and firmly, all at the same time. It’s hard to describe. He was even licking up my neck in broad strokes like I’m a fruit that’s ripe on the vine. It was hot. I suppose I must be a fruit, at least for tonight, haha. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, on my breath. I wanted to hear my dumb, hot, sexy Russian voice again. I was fumbling to get him out of his tank, which should have been an easy move, but I was too drunk.

“Chest, man,” I said. “You hairy, man. You are hairy. It’s hot.” I sounded like an idiot, I know, but it’s hot to hear my voice, too, my slurring, Russian voice.

”Yeah, boy,” he went, feeling up my pecs. I liked being called boy by this guy. Made me feel young, sexy, which I am. And I knew it.

He was practically ripping me out of my briefs and threw me on the bed. He got me naked, and he has got coke. It’s not my body, I think. I knew what to do, believe it or not. I've been to the bars around Wall street and seen what happens in the men's room. So I snorted up a line off the glass counter, walked over, naked, lit up a cigarette right in the room. Didn’t see any non-smoking signs, at least. This isn't the kind of hotel that bothers with smoke detectors. He slapped me on the ass and I couldn’t believe this was me, just hanging out casually, naked with a guy who’s occasionally slobbering all over my lower jaw.

I snorted another line. I felt amped, like coffee, only crazier. I took more at once. With a cross-fade like this, I know it’s more dangerous. Not my body, not my problem.

He was wrestling me down. I loved the feel of my muscles pushing back against his, and I loved trying to toss him, to pin him down, but he was stronger. We wrestled a lot that night, playful. I was so drunk it didn’t really hurt even when he threw me to the floor and body slammed me. It’s just fucking fun, don’t know how to put it, that state when you’ve got adrenaline and passion and lust and a few drugs pumping through your veins.

Man, his cock was a thick one. At one point I remember him shoving his hand in my ass, licking and slobbering all up in my crack, and I’m just on hands and knees, drooling, playing with my own dick as it flopped around and dangled down, making slimy fish line circles of pre-cum in the carpet. Although most dicks in the world are uncut, it somehow felt wrong that my dick now was one of them. Like peeing with boxers on. I was on my haunches, and he was fucking the living shit out of me. It hurt and I yelped out, but guy knew what he was doing, I told myself.

At one point, I half cum, forcing myself to hold it back, not wanting the experience to end so soon. “Try,” I said to him, stopping, getting up off my knees. “Try not to cum,” I said. I had pulled back, hard, using my groin muscles to stop it so I could save my load. A minute later I was good to go again. He put a cock ring on me, telling me that will shut the dick up. I don't know if he brought it or if he found it in the room. Everything was a blur. “You are my pet now”, he told me. He was pushing me down, going for my armpits, slobbering and licking all over them. I had no idea men did that. I was shocked, but it felt great.

There were other surprises. I didn’t expect to be gagging on his thick cock, or expect that he’d seemed to want to pleasure in making me choke on it. But I sure as hell did choke on it. “Spit on it,” he ordered, so I did. “Lick,” he said, so I did, licking my own spit on his cock. I was slobbering up his cock as much as I could with my tongue, thinking that must be what he wanted. It felt good to do. I mean, what an iron rod, what a maypole. This was better than eating pussy, I thought, for sure. I wondered if I’d feel that way tomorrow, realizing I wouldn’t, so I’d better make the most of it now. This would have just seemed sick to me yesterday.

“Fuck me, fuck hard, fuck my ass,” I said to him. My ass had almost started to throb after getting fucked for a while, and it was starting to feel almost empty when it wasn’t getting fucked. Crazy but true, like I wanted him in there. I wondered if this was the prostrate being activated. I could feel it, almost like a heartbeat or something, inside my ass. “Put it in,” I said, wanting him to fuck me more, wanting to understand these sensations better. My ass was sore and yet it just felt so good. Fuck the pain away, and why not?

We took a breather and it was hard to even keep my hands off him for a little while. I wanted to at least massage his shoulders, wrap my arms around him, stroke his legs. If I didn’t have a life of my own, a successful, straight life, I could almost love this guy. The feelings were just so intense, drunk as I was. Probably the alcohol was causing the feelings, but did it matter? He was so beautiful to me. He made me feel sexy. We knew what to do with each other, even as new and awkward as I surely was. The dumb Russian voice Mikhail had was awkward, so fuck if it would matter if my technique was, too. This was all for my excitement, not for the sake of the performance, I remembered.

How long did we fuck? It must have been hours. Time passes at such strange rates when you’ve been partying. I remember my cock being sore, the skin rubbed raw, the thing just aching from the weight of the cock ring, swollen up, but not wanting to stop. I wasn’t sure if I could even get the ring off at this point, drunk as I was. Fuck the pain. “Harder,” I grunted at one part. “Fuck me harder. Deutschland!” I shouted, playful, in lust, this German sex king… my own command sounded like a woof. I really was his pet. But he was also mine.

I didn’t just pass out, I blacked out. I blacked out hard.

I was utterly confused when I woke up in a hotel bed, but then memories started trickle in. The body swap. I clearly was still in Mikhail’s body, I knew, because I could feel it. I felt sore. Wait, why was I still in Mikhail’s body? Looking around I could see I was in the bed in his shitty hotel room, no German to be found. I got up while the whole body was screaming in agony. The bed sheets were pretty much ruined with semen and other fluids. What a mess. My head throbbed with a hangover worse than I have ever experienced before. I stumbled over to the mirror.

Young, muscled, and well-hung were the bright side of what I saw. Everything else I saw in the mirror disgusted me, even more now than when I swapped into it yesterday. I was naked except for the thumb ring and a cock ring. The dick and balls looked bruised, a dangerously purple color. I tentatively touched the dick and pleasure tinged pain shot through my body. It was swollen and had a dull ache, but a small part of me even wanted to play with this dick some more, as I was still horny as fuck. I didn't remember cumming. I didn't even dare to think about the agony it would be to remove that cock ring. I needed to recoup.

I knew Boris and Mikhail were basically showboating a lot of this from the get-go, but after all that, I was really tired of this immersive experience shit. I didn’t know where the German went. I didn’t know if he even kissed me goodbye, and I tell myself it doesn’t matter. This was the wildest trip I’ve ever been on, and definitely worth it. But I didn’t want to deal with this body. I didn’t want to be a fag any longer. I reached to remove the thumb ring when a sudden fear came over me, like I needed to think this through. I paused.

When I remove the ring, where would I end up? Strapped to a cross in a BDSM dungeon? In a Filipino jail? Who knew what sort of Willy Wonka arrangement these guys had in store for me? Hopefully this is just part of the game, or it’s something else that I’m not thinking of. I was trying not to panic. I was not feeling amused anymore. I just wanted out.

I was hungry, thirsty, sore, emotionally drained, horny, and I had a godawful craving for a smoke. Whatever they’ve done to my real body, it couldn’t be any worse than this.

I removed the ring.

Nothing happened.

I screamed. I punched the wall. I screamed ‘fuuuuuuck!’ until I was sobbing on the filthy bed. I was reduced to a crying mess, not surprisingly.

This is my body now. A trashy fag’s body, with an unrelenting sex drive, a smoking habit, a drinking habit, and I no doubt more addictions waiting to be discovered. No surprise he was eager to ditch it. I'm sure my hotel room was cleared out by now, the credit cards emptied to the limit. What would I do with the stuff there anyway? Clothes that doesn't fit and a passport I can't use. This is who I am now, and there is no way to even begin to explain it to anyone, without seeming like a madman.

I really needed a smoke.

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andrewmoocow · 4 years

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Steven Universe: The Fantastic Mutants chapter 4: The Deadpool and Peridot Show (originally posted on August 29, 2020)

AN: Welcome back to The Fantastic Mutants everyone. This is a very special chapter because here I have a co-writer, whether I like it or not.

Surprise everyone, it's me Deadpool! Since this kid refuses to get his writing done quickly, I've taken it upon myself to "help" him out since no one can understand me better than me. Now then, back to my cohost here.

Yes, Deadpool of all people has decided to help me. Though I'd rather do all of this myself without any distractions.

Kinda like how this author's note is distracting us from the actual main event! Now let's just get this rolling already!

We begin on a talk show set in a blank white space, inhabited solely by a drop-dead handsome mercenary dressed in a beautiful shade of red with hints of black that was currently tearing it apart for no good reason. You know him, you love him, it's the sexiest anti-hero to have ever graced this dying industry, Deadpool.

"Thank you, thank you all!" yours truly bowed for an unseen audience as he finished tearing the set apart. "Now if all y'all have been lying under a rock since like, I don't know, '91, I am known as Wade Winston Wilson. I was created by Rob Liefeld and Fabian Niecieza for The New Mutants #98 in February 199-"

"Wade, I believe everyone knows who you are already." My white thinky-box, represented by a bold underline, cut me off. "You're already an Internet legend and of course, there's Ryan Reynolds."

"Can we just can the prologue already?" my yellow thinky-box, also represented by underlining but this time it was in italics. "There's gotta be people coming here solely for us who don't know what's going on."

"Okay wiseguys, you asked for it." the man who looked like a cross between Ryan Reynolds and a Shar-Pei underneath that creepily adorable mask replied. "So in case you guys are just joining us, this is a crossover with the modern classic with some of the most psycho fans in the Internet, Steven Universe." I explained. "Last chapter, our smol sunshine baby of a protagonist was kidnapped by the Master of Magnetism Magneto for some most likely evil science experiment by our favorite evil dictator with a superiority complex to compliment his tiny dick, Doctor Doom. In response, the Crystal Gems have decided that they need more hands on deck, and more characters than this story already needs."

"What does he want this to be, the DC Extended Universe?"

"I'd watch that mouth if I were you buddy." I called the dialogue box out. "Our author here has had experiences with those fans. If that Englishman can think he's free to call MCU fans Marvel Zombies, than he's free to have his own opinion. But someone that fanatical deserves to be called something similar, like a DCheep! Get it, because he's a sheep!"

"Can we please move on? This recap has already taken up two pages and I got real-life things to do." The author begged Wade.

"Okay, okay! Let's get this started already, keep your pants on!" the masked macho-man declared, marching off stage in an alluring fashion. "Cue scenery!"

Not too far from Westchester County, there was a shitty apartment where dwelled the hideously scarred human mutate, Wade Wilson. He was out like a light after the badass battle to the death he totally had last night, no joke. Not even a chimichanga could wake him up, and he didn't care that much for them. Yeah, no joke.

"Come on you sack 'a crap, wake up!" his blind, black, elderly roommate Blind Al groaned while fishing Wade out of bed with a snow shovel. "How much off-screen carnage puts you this much to sleep?"

"Enough for readers to get a glimpse of what I do in my spare time." Deadpool declared as he woke up, looking like he had a fantastic night's sleep. "Morning Al, off to do a crossover, see ya later!" he hurriedly greeted the old woman before leaving his room.

"Should I tell him he's not wearing pants?" Al muttered to herself. "Naw, he'll figure it out himself."

And figure it out he did. Immediately after that scene, Deadpool was wandering around the street fully clothed and ready to get this chapter over with.

"So, can we have our co-stars please show themselves?"

The author complied by dropping Connie, Peridot, Lapis Lazuli, Bismuth and Nephrite into the scene. "Wait, how did we get here?" Peridot wondered aloud. "And who are you?"

"Ooh, I get to hang with everyone's favorite character!" Deadpool cheered. "I've been writing up jokes about the fans I've been wanting to say for quite a while." He added to the readers while searching his hammerspace for cue cards. "Let me see, Molotov cocktail, big-ass cartoon bomb, reminder to sue Marvel & Capcom for leaving me out of Infinite, God knows how many machine guns."

"Uh, while you're looking for whatever it is you want, let me introduce myself." Connie introduced herself. "My name is Connie, pleased to meet you."

"Hey, can you put your cue-card search on hold and say hi to the kid?"

"Ah, here they are!" Deadpool declared as he fished a series of flashcards from seemingly his butt. "Been wanting to do this for ages." He said before clearing his throat, and he began to read off of them.

"Here are some complaints I have heard about Steven Universe. Complaint #1: literally no one can stay on-model because storyboarding is the devil. Complaint #2: Rebecca Sugar is a total butchphobic abuse supporter because she treats Jasper like crap and lets Lapis off the hook despite the fact that she's even worse."

"Please note that these are clearly not the opinions of the author. He's just been around Tumblr a lot and knows just how these so-called 'fans' think."

"Who said that?" Bismuth wondered aloud. "Oh hey, Bismuth!" Wade exclaimed as he just took notice of her. "That reminds me, Complaint #3: Making Bismuth an antagonist in any way, shape or form is racist because all minorities are pretty little angels than must be defended at all costs despite the facts that we're all human beings who have the potential to be complete balls to the wall sociopathic!"

"Okay, now you're just being used as a mouthpiece for the author. Hey buddy, can you stop him by introducing your version of the X-Force?!"

As a way to shut him up, the writer dropped the X-Force into the current scene on top of Deadpool. Their members, aside from Wilson, consisted of big names like Cable, Domino, Bob & Psylocke, to those who are only familiar to movie-watchers like Copycat, Negasonic Teenage Warhead, Yukio, Bedlam & Shatterstar, and even Outlaw & Fantomex!

"How did we get here?" Cable asked the other black-ops mutants as he got up. "Oh hey Natey, knew you'd come along sooner or later!" Wade greeted his cybernetic compadre. "I was just getting myself introduced to these characters that we'll be paired up with for this crossover."

"Hi, I'm Bob, Wade's best friend!" the HYDRA agent Bob cheerfully introduced himself. "Name's Domino." Neena Thurman responded.

"A pleasure to meet you, dearest jeune fille bleue." Fantomex greeted Lapis in a gentlemanly fashion. "You may call me Fantomex. "

"Charmed." Lapis replied.

"Wow, everyone wants Lapis! First Fandral, and now Fanto."

"Can you blame her? She's the writer's fave and top SU waifu! Favoritism much?"

"Name's Negasonic Teenage Warhead." Ellie Phimster introduced herself. "This here is Yukio." She added gesturing to a Japanese girl with pink hair and a big smile. "Hi there!"

"I'm Wade's girlfriend Vanessa, though a lot of people call me Copycat since that's my power." Vanessa stated. "Yeah, totally original."

"Call me Bedlam." Bedlam stated. "And this here is Shatterstar. Unlike the rest of us, he's an alien from the Mojoverse."

"And finally, these are Outlaw and Psylocke." Shatterstar gestured to the cowgirl and the ninja in the one piece. "Nice to meet ya." Inez Temple greeted. "Indeed." Betsy Braddock added.

"So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?" Deadpool asked Connie. "Don't give too much away, cause I already got a basic knowledge of what happened last chapter."

"Chapter?" Connie tilted her head in confusion. "Steven was kidnapped only an hour ago! What do you think this is, some kind of story?"

"You'd be surprised Girl-Who-Wasn't-Actually-Dressed-As-Gohan-In-That-One-Episode." The Merc with a Mouth grinned underneath his mask. Before anyone could move on however, a stereotypical overweight nerd who looks like he doesn't get out much wheeled in on an automated scooter with a plate of brownies in front of him. "And you are?"

"I am simply an SU Critical that wants to congratulate you for making my voice heard." The nerd congratulated Deadpool. "As a way of saying thanks, have some brownies."

"I get it! Deadpool won some brownie points!"

"Don't explain the joke dumbass. The punchline should be coming up now."

As Wade snacked on the brownies, he came to realize something was wrong with them. "Hey wait a second. Yo, stereotype! Why do these brownies taste like literal dogshit?!"

"That's my secret ingredient!" the nerd revealed, much to Wade's disgust and he angrily tossed the brownies on the ground. "It's to symbolize how I believe Steven Universe has gone bad ever since the barn arc ended since absolutely nothing can compare to the amazing character development Peridot got!"

"Oh, it's so nice to see someone notice my splendidness!" Peridot blushed as she felt humbled by the nerd. "Of course, then they had to devolve her into a mindless comic relief who only-"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING MINDLESS COMIC RELIEF YOU CLOD?!" the small Gem shrieked furiously before she pounced on the basement dweller and began choking him. "I'll teach you to talk back to me immediately after giving my praises you hypocrite!"

As Peridot continued assaulting the nerd, everyone else watched in either shock, bemusement or in Deadpool's case, pride. "I think I want to be her new bestest friend already."

"But I thought we were friends!" Bob weeped sadly while Bedlam gave him a comforting pat on the head.

"And now it's time for a cutaway gag!"

"Cutaway gags? You gotta be kidding me, we're not Family Guy!"

"Just let the writer do his thing man, it's his imagination!"

"Come on Willy, I know you can do it!" a child version of Deadpool called to a whale in a scene that is clearly a reference to a certain all-time classic "Boy and his non-human friend" story. However just as Willy finally leaped over the rock Wade was standing on, he was immediately harpooned in midair and dragged towards a pirate ship manned by Captain Ahab. "Hey, wrong whale story Habbo Hotel!"

"After so many years of searching, that accursed whale is now mine to profit off!" Ahab and his crew celebrated their capture. "I'm talking sequels and an animated series to start, but the sky's the limit!"

"This ain't the last you'll see of me Old Thunder!" Wade cursed the sea captain as he made off with his prize. "I'll bring that whale home, just you wait!"

"Okay, that's a pretty unique idea for a gag. But seriously, back to the show."

"So, we're here because Magneto has kidnapped Steven with a bunch of Sentinels." Connie recapped to Deadpool while they were out and about in the city. "Now that you know what we're doing, can you tell us what you do?"

"I'm glad you asked Connie." Deadpool declared. "Allow me to explain the only way you Steven Universe characters probably know how. IN SONG!"

"Wait, a musical number, in a fanfiction?! Seriously?!"

"Hey shut it, this is gonna be good!"

"Lights please." Wade announced, shutting off the lights with a snap of his fingers, and turning them back on with another snap. He was now dressed as an Elvis impersonator with Cable, Domino, Bob and Copycat as his band. "What song do you plan on playing?" Vanessa asked her boyfriend.

"Just watch and listen." Wade responded, and began playing a parody of a classic movie song. "Here I go!" he started singing while Cable provided backup on the drums. "Woo! Ah-ha, ah-ha, let me show you what I work with!"

"Well Gambit was in league with a bunch of thieves, Cyclops has almost two thousand tales!" For his first act of insanity, the Regenerating Degenerate made about fifty longboxes filled with comics appear for Peridot & Lapis to rifle through. As soon as they discovered one with Wade fighting a vampire bat creature on the cover titled "Deadpool: The Gauntlet," the Deadpool on the cover continued the song.

"Well my friends, you're in luck cause up your sleeves, you got a kind of guy that never fails!" After Deadpool emerged from the issue Peridot was holding, he shot down various villains emerging from the other comics while singing.

"You got a real badass in your corner now, a real Wolverine type in your camp!" he then demonstrated by transforming his face into that of Logan's and then back again before letting bullets rain from above. "He can shoot, kablam! Bullets galore, all you gotta do is say my name!" Wade crooned. "And I'll say: 'Miss Peridot and Lapis Lazuli, what will your pleasure be?'"

As he sat the Gems down on a beach blanket, Deadpool then assumed pirate attire and set a heavy treasure chest on the ground. "Just give me a guy and I'll shoot him down, you ain't had a mercenary like me!"

Peridot began to excitedly open the chest while Lapis rolled her eyes. "Life's like a treasure chest," Wade's disembodied voice continued. When the treasure box was opened, the mercenary exploded out of it and made gold fly everywhere. "AND I'M GONNA BE YOUR KEY!"

Unlike her smaller partner, Lapis was still not amused. "C'mon, whisper to me what you want," Wade kept crooning, followed by splitting himself into four smaller Deadpools. "You ain't had a mercenary like me!"

"Contractors pride ourselves on service." One of the mini-Wades stated, and then they merged into the prime Wilson while spawning a lavish couch for his two guests. "You girls the hoss, the queens, the Shah! No matter what you wish, I'll be your bitch! How 'bout a few chimichangas?"

"Have some of Sample A, try all of Sample B!" Following the chimichanga rain, Peridot and Lapis were handed free samples at a supermarket before they found themselves on a velvet pillow held by Wade. "Anytime, any day, I'll help you babes. You ain't had a mercenary like me!"

A brief dance number then ensued between Deadpool and his hands. His left hand vocalized and the degenerate replied with an "Oh my!" When the right hand started singing, it was responded with "No no!" Both hands harmonized and they got a "Ha ha ha!" They sandwiched Deadpool between them as he peaced out with a "Zip-a-dee doo-dah!"

When Deadpool returned, he pointed straight at Peridot. "Give me a good badda-yadda-yadda!"

"Badda-yadda-yadda!" Peridot excitedly repeated. "Good, scotty-wop!" Wade then pointed to Lapis. Her reply was more unsure. "Uh, scotty-wop?"

"Everybody now!" Deadpool compelled the readers. "Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!"

"Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!" the readers answered excitedly.

"Yeah, y'all got it!" Wade congratulated before proceeding to demonstrate his healing factor. "Can your friends do this?" he asked, casually dislocating his arms. "Can your friends do that?" he added, ripping out his spinal cord to bounce on it like a certain stuffed tiger. "Can your friends pull this?" With that, Wade tore his skeleton out of his body and started dancing the Charleston with it. "Out a little hat?!"

Suddenly, Wade's skeleton started filling itself with dynamite sticks on the verge of exploding. "CAN YOUR FRIENDS GO-" The human mutate was interrupted as the TNT exploded, and the clouds gave way to him beatboxing while doing a silly dance.

"Call me the Merc with a Mouth, I am always there. North, West, East and South! So don't sit there slackjawed, all buggy-eyed! I'm here to answer all ya evening prayers!" he continued. "You got me bona-fide certified! A hired gun for your charge affair!"

"I got a powerful urge to help you out! So who's gonna die? I really need to know!" Deadpool said as the song began to reach its climax while pulling a long strip of paper from Peridot's mouth and began rubbing his bottom with it. "You got a list that's three miles long no doubt. So all you gotta do is pay-wayho!"

For the final setpiece, Peridot and Lapis now stood atop a mountain of dead Marvel characters that are so obscure, not even the most hardcore fans knew a thing about them. "Miss Peridot and Lapis Lazuli, what will your pleasure be?" Wade asked tunefully. Peridot then picked up one body, and its head suddenly turned into Deadpool's. "Anytime anyplace, I'll help you babes."

A few bodies rose from the dead, only for Deadpool to shoot them all down. "You ain't had a mercenary, never had a mercenary." He concluded. "You ain't had a mercenary, never had a mercenary."

Bullets once again began raining, along with all sorts of violent weapons as the song finally ended. "YOU AIN'T, HAD A, MERCE-NARY LIIIII-IIIIIKE MEEEEE!"

With the X-Force performing a kickline to finish things off, Deadpool pulled on a string dangling from above. "You ain't had a mercenary like me!" A flickering neon applause sign dropped down, capping off the rather pointless number.

"Well, that was a waste of time that'll never be spoken of again."

"Sincerest apologies to Alan Menken, Howard Ashman and especially Robin Williams. He would've been 69 this year. NICE!"

"Okay you generic-looking monster, time to discover who you truly are!" Connie declared to a captured Sasquatch while she, Peridot, Deadpool, Lapis and Cable were dressed as a certain band of meddling kids and their voracious canine pal. Connie ripped off the Sasquatch's head to reveal that it was a mask worn by an evil parrot with a scar across his face.

"Zoinks! Like, it's a parrot!" Deadpool declared in a beatnik voice. "Wait, a parrot? Is that all?"

"Far from it mein friends!" the parrot answered in a German accent. Suddenly, large robots kicked the walls around them down. "Behold, my Nazi robots!"

"N-Nazi robots?" Lapis stuttered. "Jeepers, this is just getting too weird."

Deadpool then glanced expectantly at Cable, who groaned while pushing up his glasses. "C'mon Cabey, say the line!" he exhorted the cyborg. With a heavy groan, Cable quietly said "Jinkies, run."

"He's right, let's split up gang!" Connie commanded, and the crew were off to the races. After passing by the same flowerpot approximately five times because there wasn't that much in the budget, the five came across a hallway littered with doors.

When Deadpool and Peridot burst into one door, they came out of another not too faraway, same with the others. However at the end of a door, they came across a blue digital ghost with yellow eyes & teeth and a grainy laugh.

"Ruh roh, rit's Rames Rarles the Rindly Rohnny!" Peridot exclaimed, making every word she spoke begin with R before she coughed. "How does anyone speak like this?" she asked Wade. "Because speech impediments are funny!" the mercenary replied. "Now let's move!"

"Seriously, why can't I be Fred?!" Cable complained while emerging from another door with Deadpool by his side instead of Lapis. "Connie gets the cool ascot, and all I'm left with is this bulky sweater and a short skirt!"

"Well for one, that skirt actually looks pretty cute on you." Wade answered with a stupidly cheeky grin on his face. Before anyone else could charge through more doors, zombie cats and dinosaurs that could move without thinking came charging in. "Wow, Scooby-Doo became a lot weirder than when I was a youngin."

Returning to the real world, the Crystal Temps and the X-Force have just plowed through an entire armed squadron inhabiting a conveniently abandoned office building and now had their leader tied up in a chair. "We ain't gonna let all those hallway fights amount to nothing!" Wade declared holding the squadron leader at gunpoint. "We've tried every torture technique in the book: eating your own food, threatening your family, doing a silly dance to some awesome music and yet still you won't talk!" he exclaimed. "So let me ask this again! What does the guy who gave Magneto & Doctor Doom those Sentinels look like?"

"What?" the gunman asked nervously, causing Wade to smash another wall. "WHAT COUNTRY ARE YOU FROM?!" the mercenary shrieked. "What?" the captive continued squeaking. "WHAT AIN'T NO COUNTRY I EVER HEARD OF!" Deadpool yelled. "THEY SPEAK ENGLISH IN WHAT?!"

"What?" the man said a third time. "ENGLISH MOTHER-" Deadpool began, but then he noticed the T-rating and groaned. "ENGLISH YOU BASTARD, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!" he reiterated. "YES!" the gunman finally said something other than what. "THEN YOU MUST KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" Deadpool kept yelling. "WHAT DOES YOUR MASTER LOOK LIKE?!"

"We could just beat the info outta him and be done with it." Bedlam advised. "No need for all this Pulp Fiction parody crap."

"Was I talking to you?" Wade asked his teammate tersely before going back to his captive. "Now where was I? Oh yeah! Does he look like a bitch?"

"Now you're just skipping lines!" the gunman squealed in defiance. "What else do you wanna do with me?!"

"Okay, I got another question for you." Wade stated. "Have you had your prostate exam lately?"

"What?" the gunman muttered, fearing what could come next. "In fact, I got just the girl to help me." Wade declared. "Hey Connie, your MILF of a mom is a doctor right? Surely you must know what I'm talking about!"

"Yeah, pretty much!" Connie answered. "Here, lend me your sword. We might need to operate." Deadpool said as he menacingly snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. "Hey author, why don't we cut to another scene before this gets too violent?"

"Now then, what are we working with he-There it is!"

"AUGH!"

Elsewhere, a stereotypical shadowy figure watched from a large video screen as the X-Force tore through his mercenaries. "That masked maniac is onto us!" he growled quietly while pounding his fist on an armrest and turned his chair to face Ruckus, Gorgeous George, Hairbag, Ramrod & Slab, the Nasty Boyz. "You five track him & those rainbow women down and kill them all!"

"Yes sir." The Nasty Boyz complied and set off for the Merc with a Mouth. "Now where do you suppose the merc could be now?" Hairbag asked his fellow Boyz. "My best guess, he's probably at that Hellhouse run by Patch." the Southern-accented Slab theorized. "Hopefully they have room for his head as a trophy."

"Well here we are at Saint Margaret's School for Wayward Children." Deadpool decreed as he suddenly parked a limo that he totally always had in front of the mercenary dispatch center he loved frequenting. "I suggest you try not to look at some of its inhabitants funny, some of them can get a little ballistic."

Entering the bar, the two teams had all eyes on them by all the other mercs at the establishment. "Uh, hello there." Connie nervously greeted one of them. "I don't think you're old enough to be here little girl." The mercenary replied ominously. "Don't worry Jessica, they're with me." Deadpool told the larger man. "So, where's Weasel?"

"Right here old buddy!" the bespectacled bartender called for Wade. "Hey, Weasel!" Wade exclaimed to his old friend while sitting down at the bar and exchanging a fistbump. "I see you're doing well Poolboy." Weasel said to his friend. "And who's the green midget with you?"

"This is Peridot, a member of the Crystal Gems." Shatterstar introduced Peridot. "Oh, you mean those rock ladies that creamed those Chitauri only to get creamed by Thanos?" Weasel asked, making Peridot pretty mad. "Hey, we creamed Thanos right back!"

"We're looking for information sir." Connie said to Weasel. "A friend of mine has been captured by Magneto & Doctor Doom using those Sentinel robots, and we want to know where they've come from."

"You want confidential info little girl?" the barkeep stated. "Go see Multiple Man over there at that poker table, he's usually the guy to talk to since he's a detective."

"Yet one mystery he can't solve is the mystery of why he can never get his own movie."

"ZING!"

At a nearby poker table, Jamie Madrox and some of his duplicates were playing cards with the albino mutant Caliban, and the four Jamies clearly had the upper hand. "All in!" one of the clones declared shoving his chips into the pot. "I know you are cheating Madrox." Caliban informed his opponent. "I mean, there are literally four of you!"

Just then, Deadpool abruptly shot one of the clones dead and sat down where he once was. "Deal me in." he simply declared as if nothing happened. "Caliban welcomes you Mr. Pool." Caliban nervously greeted the regenerating degenerate. "And who is your little friend?"

"You may call me Peridot, the suave, attractive and positively adorable leader of the Crystal Gems!" Peridot introduced herself arrogantly. "So, you more members of the X-Men? Haven't seen you around the mansion."

"Actually, we're members of a different team of mutants." Madrox replied, while his surviving doubles sadly carried their dead comrade away. "There are actually quite a lot of them you see. X-Factor; the one we're a part of, X-Statix, Excalibur, Generation X, the Morlocks and most famously Alpha Flight."

"Half of them sound so late 20th to early 21st century." Peridot commented. "I mean, X-Statix? Talk about totally cool dudes!"

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Is this Saint Margaret's? We'd like to have a word with the owner." A voice came from the other side, catching all the patrons and employees off-guard. All was quiet, but then the Nasty Boyz came crashing through the wall instead of the door. "LET'S GET NASTY!" they all cried out, springing into action.

"Alright, what the shit is going on here?!" Bob "Patch" Stirrat, the elderly owner of Saint Margaret's growled, emerging from another room while stroking his big bushy mustache. "Oh god, it's the Nasty Boyz."

"The Nasty Boyz?" Peridot and Lapis repeated in unison before they laughed at the evil mutant team's name. Suddenly, the wood tables of the bar came to life and changed their form thanks to Ramrod, who used them to restrain everyone aside from Deadpool. "Okay boys, frisk him."

On Ramrod's orders, Gorgeous George used his shapeshifting powers to grab Wade by the ankles and dangle him above the ground. "Let's see what he's got here." Ruckus muttered, fishing through the belongings dropped as Wade was shaken up and down. "Various pistols, swords, nunchucks, staves, forks, a bazooka."

"Most of those were from a Ninja Turtles convention I went to last year." Wade revealed. "Don't know where the bazooka came from."

"Rubber chicken, five month old bag of pizza pockets; that are still warm," Slab continued for his teammate. "Ryan Reynolds's phone number, large collection of nude selfies from Thumbelin-WHAT?!"

To Slab's absolute shock and fury, he found an overfilled file of lewd pictures taken by his sister Kristina Anderson with her phone number on it, along with a message saying "I bet you want more, my raging sex machine!" Crushing the file in his hand, Slab furiously glared at Deadpool. "Wilson, you son of a bitch!"

"Geez Chris, I thought you had a sense of humor." Wade grinned cheekily. "After all, SHE'S YOUR SISTER!" Then like Thor returning Mjolnir to his hand, the mercenary wiggled his fingers to call one of his katana blades back and free himself from Gorgeous George before rescuing his friends. "SSSSSSmokin'!" he hissed before spin-dashing out of the bar.

"After that degenerate!" Hairbag exclaimed while Slab frothed in wordless rage and the Boyz gave chase, leaving the bar in tatters. "Hey, which of you assholes is gonna clean this up?!" Patch exclaimed, but then he answered his own question by handing Weasel a broom.

"Everyone, to the Deadpoolmobile!" Deadpool exclaimed as the X-Force and Crystal Temps piled into the limousine from earlier. "Where did you ever get this car anyways?" Bismuth asked him, and he replied. "Don't think about it!"

Far across the city, Robert Kelly was left facepalming and a colleague of his scratching his head when they discovered that one of Kelly's limos was missing, its place taken by a graffiti message saying "I O U".

"I hate that Deadpool." Senator Kelly groaned.

"You get back here this instant you red-masked c-" Slab called for Deadpool as the Nasty Boyz chased them in a stolen taxi, but his cursing was cut off by Deadpool popping out the sunroof of the limousine to open fire on them.

"Wait, if Deadpool is up there, then who is driving?" Connie asked the group, and that's when Yukio made a shocking realization. "Oh my god, Demon Bear is driving!" she exclaimed pointing to a demonic bear that was taking the wheel. "How can that be?!"

"That's right folks, Lawrence Abrams is here to report that the insanely infamous insane mercenary Deadpool has started an intense car chase where he's hijacked a limo belonging to Senator Robert Kelly and is being chased by a group of other mutants called the Nasty Boyz." Lawrence Abrams said on the television at the Baxter Building, where Garnet, Pearl, Colossus and Wolverine had now caught wind of the event. "And there's also some kinda bear driving the limo for some reason. Why's there a bear?! Who gives a damn! And now onto Sally Floyd with politics!"

"Deadpool." Colossus glowered in embarrassment. "Come my friends, we must go and handle this crisis ourselves." He declared while preparing to leave the building. "But you let Connie go on that mission for her optimism." Pearl stated to the metal mutant while setting Reed and Sue's young son Franklin Richards on the floor.

"We know Pearl, but that maniac is a whole 'nother level of unpredictable." Wolverine grumbled. "And there's a high chance Connie's life is at risk here! Right Garnet?"

"Logan is correct. I can see multiple paths where things go horribly wrong." Garnet agreed with Logan. "Oh, you're leaving already?" Franklin's older sister Valeria asked them. "Mom and Dad were just about to introduce you to H.E.R.B.I.E."

"It's alright Valeria, they still have friends to help." Susan assured her daughter. "Go on Gems, we'll catch up with you back at the mansion."

"It's been a pleasure to be shown around the Baxter Building and meeting the kids Sue." Pearl said gratefully and shook the Invisible Woman's hand. "I especially like how Franklin reminds me of Steven."

"Bye Ms. Pearl!" Franklin said goodbye by hugging the tall Gem's leg. "Oh, goodbye to you too Frank." Pearl replied. "Hey, what about me?!" the Four's AI H.E.R.B.I.E exclaimed irritably. "Don't I get anything to say?!"

"Oy Cain, you gotta check this out!" Black Tom called to Juggernaut while he was watching TV. The Brotherhood of Mutants had stopped to refuel their ship and Black Tom had run off on his own when he discovered a TV shop playing the same news report of Deadpool's car chase. "What say we give Deadpool an old one-two before Mags finishes up?"

"You son of a bitch, I'm in!" Juggernaut exclaimed eagerly, giving his teammate a fist-bump that knocked Tom to the ground. "You okay there?"

"We have your limousine surrounded! Come out of the vehicle with your hands in the air!" a police officer barked into a bullhorn as they had Deadpool and pals backed into a corner. "I would make a police brutality joke, but even I know that would be too soon." Wade said to the readers as he screeched the limo to a stop, making donuts on the street and damaging numerous police cars in the process.

"Okay, now you're just either showing off or defying us." The cop with the megaphone japed. Just then, a mighty thud briefly shook the ground. And another. And another. And another. And-

"Quit stalling writer, we know who it is! It's the goddamn Juggernaut!" Deadpool interrupted the third-person omniscient narrator. "Literally everyone and their goddamn long lost relatives know who he is!" The mighty Juggernaut continued inching closer to the fanboying mercenary while the police scattered out of fear of him and Peridot poked her head out the sunroof to see what was up.

"Uh, Wade?" the petite Gem squeaked nervously. "You know who that is right?"

"Didn't I just say that it's ol' Juggernaut?!" Wade exclaimed to his new best friend. "Oh, the things I could say about how much of a badass he is! This guy has beaten the shit outta Cyttorak, the Thing, Colossus, Blob & Thor and even called banging She-Hulk a stalemate! Maybe, that last one was actually a cl-"

Before Deadpool could finish the sentence, Juggernaut grabbed him by the neck with just two fingers and brought him very close to his helmeted face. "Hello Wade." He beamed callously. "Hey Cainy, is that new toothpaste I smell?" Deadpool greeted him nervously. "What flavor is it this time, Feeling Bad About Your Shitty Mutant Powers So You Get New Ones from Cyttorak?"

"Goddamn he went there." Black Tom muttered, only to receive a glare from his partner.

"Deadpool!" Garnet called for the Merc with a Mouth as she, Pearl, Colossus and Wolverine entered the scene. "Oh, hey guys." Peridot nervously waved to her fellow Crystal Gems. "What brings you here?"

"We came here to take control of this current situation." Pearl explained. "No matter how much you want to swear and kill and all sorts of other crass activities, we still need your help in saving a friend of ours."

"I appreciate you want me to be more involved in this story Mordecai," Wade said to Pearl. "but can this wait a bit? I'm currently in the middle of worshipping the Juggernaut, bit-"

However within seconds, Deadpool was mashed into the ground by Juggernaut, leaving only a few scattered body parts lying in a puddle of blood. "Oh, so rude!" his disembodied head declared indignantly. "And to think we were buddies at one time Marky-Mark." He then turned to face the audience one last time before the degenerate would meet his not very possible untimely end. "But since I'm literally nothing but blood, my head, a few fingers, an upper arm and my dick right now, let's lighten the mood a little with some more gags, shall we?"

"As if we didn't waste enough time already."

"I love the smell of 372,844 pancakes in the morning." Deadpool declared as he flipped his last pancake and added it to the growing mountain of pancakes. "Smells like victory!"

"Why on Earth would you need this many pancakes?" Bismuth asked while Deadpool turned on the ceiling sprinklers to pour maple syrup all over each and every one of them at once. "Well, that's pretty clever I'll admit."

"Okay Peridot, ace this test and you're on the team!" Wade, now a coach for the girls' swim team comprised of Lapis, Bismuth, Domino, Warhead, Yukio, Outlaw, Copycat, Psylocke & Nephrite, announced to their soon to be newest member Peridot while she prepared to dive.

"This is it Peri, get this right and you'll make everyone proud!" Peridot muttered to herself while adjusting her cap and gazing at Lapis. As soon as Coach Wade blew the whistle, Peridot leaped into the water…and soon began struggling to keep herself afloat in a very exaggerated manner. "AAAAAGH, SOMEONE HELP! LIFEGUARD, COACH, SOS! THIS WAS A HORRIBLE IDEA!" she shrieked for help before the chlorinated water won out and she sank to the bottom.

"I'll save you!" Cable roared while assuming the role of a lifeguard, preparing to jump in the water after her when Wade stopped him. "No no, wait for the punchline."

When Peridot finally breached the surface, she dramatically gasped for air and then frantically paddled towards the end of the pool, grabbing the ledge with a serious expression on her face. "So, how do you like my swimming?" she asked, acting like nothing had happened. However, no one else was there to answer except for Deadpool. "Hey, where did everyone go?!"

"They jumped ship an hour ago because they were tired of waiting." Wade answered. "But you still get on the team cause you really made me laugh."

"Gotta say Lapis, we got quite a team here." Deadpool remarked proudly to his fellow baseball player Lapis. "Uh, yeah, they're great." Lapis nervously replied while failing to get the joke. "So, who's on first?"

"Yeah, and what's on second." Wade responded eagerly. "No, I want to know who's on first." Lapis continued asking. "Exactly! We already established that who's on first, what's on second and I don't know is third."

"Wait, do you not know their names or are those seriously what they're called?" the ocean Gem asked, causing great irritation for her team captain. "Dammit Lapis, you spoiled the punchline!" he reprimanded her. "In fact, this whole Abbott and Costello tribute was just an excuse to see you dress up as Bob again! I mean, can you blame me with those shorts?"

"Abbott and who now?" Lapis remarked with a raised eyebrow.

"You really need to get out more." Wade deadpanned, lowering his eyelids in response.

"Welcome back one and all to Celebrity Jeopardy." Pearl announced, now dressed as Alex Trebek. "Now before we proceed, I'd like to apologize on the behalf of our contestants to all viewers with rather unusual lifestyles. We here at the studio refuse to judge anyone based on how they live, and sincerely hope you accept our apologies. Now then, let's proceed with our contestants."

Deadpool was in the podium closest to Pearl, now dressed as Sean Connery. "Mr. Connery is in first place with only -1 dollar." Pearl began recapping for the viewers at home. "About as many points as your mother gave you!" Wade cackled.

"Classy." Pearl responded crossly before shining the spotlight on Lewis Black, aka Peridot. "Mr. Black now has a score of, shockingly enough, -6,000 dollars." She explained, prompting the small Gem turned abrasive comedian to climb up on top of her podium in the middle. "Is that enough to buy my own bus?"

"And finally, Josh Brolin, now having raised 35 dollars." Pearl concluded while Juggernaut assumed the role of the aforementioned actor many may know as a certain Mad Titan. "I don't feel so good." Cain muttered. "Damn, walked right into that one!"

"Very well then. With introductions out of the way, let's move onto the board." Pearl stated, moving her eyes from the podiums to the categories. "Tonight our categories are Annals of History, Potent Potables, What Bulls Hit, Jokes, Popular Foreign Television, Places with Names Ending in 'Nia' and Video Games." Deadpool then pressed his buzzer. "Mr. Connery, you have the board."

"I'll take What Bullshit for $500 Al." Wade announced with a stupid grin on his face, clearly misreading the category he had chosen. "And I can tell you plenty of things that are bullshit."

"No, it clearly says What Bulls-" Pearl began to correct the masked contestant before she came to a realization. "Whoa! Okay, walked right into that one. Anyways, the question is: "It is commonly believed bulls are enraged by this color". Mr. Connery?"

"I'll tell you something I've hit recently." Deadpool chortled. "Hit up a few bars over the past week while hanging with your mom. She and I had a wonderful time, if you get what I mean! Wink wink, nudge nudge."

"I don't even have a mother!" Pearl ranted hotly. "And can we please return to what was happening earlier?! These pop culture references are nothing but a waste of time!"

"Thank you!"

"Boldface, you ignorant slut."

"Oh no, Wade!" Peridot yelled for Deadpool as she dashed out the limo to check on the puddle of blood and body parts that was once her new friend. "Please speak to us you clod, you can't die like this!"

"That's because I can't!" Deadpool proudly declared and in a beautiful Disney-like spectacle, slowly reassembled himself until he was the full-bodied lovable manic once again. "Healing factor baby! Got it when some asshole tried to cure my cancer, along with looking like a walking tumor."

"Uh hey, remember us?" the Nasty Boyz cried out in unison, catching the merc's attention. "Oh right, you guys. Gotta wrap up the chapter somehow." As a result, Wade opened fire on the evil mutants, shooting them in the arms, kneecaps and especially their dicks. "Oh and Bismuth, Peridot? You guys got Black Tom & Juggies. I'll take Garnet and Pearl!"

"You got it, I guess." Bismuth complied before she and her little friend squared off with Cassidy & Cain, leaving Wade alone against the senior Crystal Gems.

"Hey, what about us?" Lapis asked the writer, who responded by typing, "Didn't think that far ahead. You guys can just do crowd control."

"Okay Q-Bert and Drinking Bird," Deadpool exclaimed. "you two may have thousands of years of battle experience on your show but in terms of franchise ages, I've been doing this for far longer! There was even a graphic novel trilogy where an actually insane version of me killed the rest of Marvel, tons of classic literature characters and even other versions of me!"

"Do you have any idea what he's saying anymore?" Pearl asked Garnet. "I'm not sure. I fear he may be too unpredictable for us to comprehend!" Garnet answered fearfully. "You can try if you want." Deadpool beckoned them with a silly dance. "But I can assure you that hilarity will ensue!"

Pearl leaped at the Merc with a Mouth, but she was quickly denied a hit when Wade did a pirouette and kicked her in the back, sending her flying into a lamppost. "See, what did I tells ya?!"

Garnet tried her hand at attacking by enlarging her gauntlets & launching them at her foe, but they proved to be useless against him. Deadpool then rapidly fired his gun at Garnet, but she blocked all the bullets with her gauntlets and then finally moved so fast, not even Deadpool could catch her and was punched in the face.

"Wow okay, you got the guts!" Wade yelled while readjusting his head from the hit. "Seems like I really am a bit outmatched by you Garnet. Or maybe a certain someone just wants to make things fair!"

"Come on you maniac, what else can you throw at us?!" Pearl asked pointing her spear. "Oh what else can I throw?" Deadpool replied, letting out a sinister giggle while wearing a pair of shiny glasses and clasping his fingers together. "Let me show you!"

Whipping out his katana blades, Deadpool laughed maniacally while using them to tear the background apart, leaving nothing but a blank white space behind. "WELCOME CRYSTAL GEMS TO MY TURF! I PRESENT TO YOU THE FOURTH WALL, WHERE LOGIC IS JUST AS ILLEGAL AS JAYWALKING!"

"This is starting to remind me of that Uncle person." Pearl muttered in awe. "I thought we promised to never speak of that man again." Garnet instructed the former servant. "Well if he wants to make jokes and talk to the audience, then so can we."

When the two Gems joined hand, there was a bright shimmer as the pair merged into the returning glamorous Sardonyx. "Ladies, gentlemen and everyone in-between, the Gem Hostess with the Mostest has finally returned!" the fusion of Garnet and Pearl announced. "And it seems we have a very special guest star today."

"Sardonyx, huh?" Deadpool muttered while scrolling through the Steven Universe wiki for statistics. "Oh I see, she's here because we can both break the fourth wall!"

"A worthy opponent for you I must say!" Sardonyx chortled before smashing Deadpool in with her hammer. "Of course you realize this means war!" Wade roared, proceeding to whip out numerous cartoon guns, launching them all at once. "RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA-RATA!" he screamed while launching lead at his fusion foe, following up with a declaration of "Omae wa mou shindeiru."

"N-NANI?!" Sardonyx cried out in shock before she spontaneously combusted with a cry of "HIDEBU!" However, the explosion cleared up and she was perfectly fine. "Psyche! Hammer time!"

Before Sardonyx could hit Deadpool with the hammer again, he disappeared into a cartoon hole like it were a solid object and reappeared out another. "Ha, that Spot douche should take notes from-OH GOD!"

"Anyone up for Whack-A-Mole?!" Sardonyx exclaimed, proceeding to whack her opponent multiple times with her hammer before he vanished and popped out another hole. And another, and another, and another, and another, until the hiding began to tire him out. "Jesus she's good." Wade panted, and then he began to make a plan. "I swore that I would never use this the moment I stole it from those schmoes, but I'm left with no choice!"

Sticking a hand up his red-clad butt, Deadpool pulled it out while holding a small black jewel that seemed similar to the Infinity Stones. "Ough, I also swore to never use it again because looking for it is a literal pain in my ass!"

"That Infinity Stone isn't canon!" Sardonyx objected while sounding like a stereotypical nerd. "Oh it may not be canon my dear, but we're in the Fourth Wall where anything could happen." Deadpool explained deviously. "With this Continuity Stone, I could warp all reality to my whims! I could use it to go back in time and erase One More Day by preventing Civil War from happening, or maybe beat the shit outta that Judas Traveller prick and his butt-buddies! But what I plan on doing now is using this stone to erase you from this reality once and for all!"

"Oh no, I don't feel so good!" Sardonyx dramatically announced as she felt herself fading away. "I'm melting! Melting! Oh what a world, what a world!" With that, the fusion finally vanished and presumably Garnet & Pearl as well. As Deadpool let out a heavy sigh, he suddenly realized that the Continuity Stone was now missing. "What the?! Where did it go!?"

"Looking for something Ninja Spidey?" a familiar voice rang out. Sardonyx was now back to normal and smugly held the Stone in her hand, setting it down like a golfball and swinging it at Deadpool's eye, causing his body to explode.

"Can I at least get one F-bomb in Mr. Author Man? Please?" Wade begged the author by putting on his best puppy dog eyes until his disembodied head landed in one of Sardonyx's hands. "To be or not to be," she began quoting Shakespeare. "That is the question."

"I got a question." The mercenary's head growled angrily. "On a scale from one to ten, how much do you think I FUCKING hate you?"

"Watch the mouth sonny, children could be reading this!" Sardonyx chortled. "Now then, let's finish this chapter!"

One bypass of the chapter break later, Sardonyx and the defeated Deadpool were now out of the Fourth Wall and back in the real world where the Nasty Boyz, Juggernaut & Black Tom were now nowhere to be seen.

"Okay, I give up!" Deadpool complained while his body began to regenerate. "I'll go with your stupid plan! Didn't really need to treat me like how Pearl killed that one Irishman during the Easter Rising."

"It was an accident!" Pearl exclaimed as she and Garnet defused. "And how did you possibly know?"

"But before we move onto the next chapter, can we make a quick stop first?" Deadpool asked. "There's a joke I think needs resolving."

"You'll never take the whale from me Wilson!" Captain Ahab exclaimed as he engaged in a swordfight with the dread pirate Straw Hat Deadpool and his motley crew. "I'll surrender when I get eaten alive!"

"Funny you should mention that Habbo." First Mate Peridot sneered before she whistled loudly for Willy to breach the surface, breaking most of Ahab's ship and swallowing him whole. "I'll get you for this Wade!" Ahab shrieked vengefully. "You haven't seen the last of me!"

When Ahab was finally swallowed, Willy gave the pirates his farewells and dove back into the water, free again at last.

"What did parodying both Free Willy and Moby Dick have to do with anything?" Pearl asked Straw Hat Deadpool. "You know what? After what I've experienced, I don't think I want to know."

At long last, the chapter is done! Good thing too, because my partner has just started college as we write this and all that education is gonna cut into his freetime!

Yes indeed, the next chapter will take a bit longer to come out because of college. But I still get a few months off soon, so there you go.

Well, that should settle it. You get some free writing done and I won't take your ANDY ONLY stuff. Hasta luego amigo! And be sure to give my regards to your mom!

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ckret2 · 4 years

Text

Okay so I got an ask like,

anonymous asked: whose ur favorite Hazbin character? Like your absolute #1 and why?

and technically my answer is Alastor, but Sir Pent is such a close second that I gave my reasons for him too in that ask, and now I’m making a second post about Alastor.

Reasons I really like Alastor but like, only slightly more than Sir Pent:

- Honestly “I can suck ya dick” *IMMEDIATE BRAIN BREAK FACE* is probably the moment I, like, mentally latched on to Alastor’s character, and at that point I don’t think I even knew yet that the creator had said he was ace. It just... I could feel the aceness in my soul. Like that thing where Jedi run into somebody and go “oh you’re strong in the Force, I can tell.” That was just such a perfect and succinct ace joke, and by that I mean like it feels like a joke from an ace perspective. Like it was so relatable.

- tbh half my reasons for liking Alastor are “oh that’s relatable,” which is hilarious, because like... I don’t like characters because I relate to them, ever, but because I think they’re interesting in their strange/different ways. Alastor is the sole exception I can think of where half the reasons I like him is because I look at him and go “oh big mood.” Other ace or aro characters I’ve seen in the past just make me go “oh... okay. cool. nice, representation for me” and then I don’t really care about them. Alastor, though, the SECOND I learned he was ace, something in my brain went “FUCK YES. ONE OF OURS.” I immediately sat down and started writing a character study fic about Alastor being ace/aro in the exact same precise way that I’m ace/aro, and that was even before we got confirmation that he was aro. I was ready to go all in on him anyway.

- Half the reason I like his ace/aro-ness when I don’t care about it as much on other characters is because like... usually, when you get an ace/aro character, it goes one of two ways:

1) their entire character is built around/“in tune with” their ace/aro-ness, in a way. Most obvious when you have the stereotypical “robot/alien that cannot love,” but also seen in “character that is naive and pure and innocent and lustless,” “character that acts like an actual literal child,” “character that acts like a bad autism cliche,” “character that’s too cold or cruel or emotionless to feel love,” etc. And that’s boring, when they’re only ace/aro because the writer cannot imagine a character Like That being any other way, or because the writer cannot imagine an ace/aro being Any Other Way.

Or, 2) they’re written as “too normal,” as in, like, NOTHING ABOUT THEIR PERSONALITY or life experiences or anything seems shaped AT ALL by the fact that they do not share an internal sense of lust and/or romance that most of the rest of the human species not only has, but also is obsessed with.

And Alastor falls in neither camp. He’s gregarious and talkative and puts on little performances wherever he goes, and he obnoxiously butts in on somebody else’s group project by begging for an opportunity to help out and then obnoxiously volunteers his friends who hate him to help with the group project, and he’s manipulative and dangerous and secretive and violent, and he hides his emotions and he disguises when he’s feeling weak... and also the quickest way to throw him off his game is to make a sexual pass at him because he’s blindsided so hard by it that it’s like for a moment there he forgot that sex exists.

And that’s what I want to see. A character whose personality isn’t based on/tied into his ace/aro-ness, BUT we can clearly see his character IS INFLUENCED by the fact that he views the world through a completely different lens from everyone else.

I can imagine that Alastor had to puzzle through What Is Love/What Is Desire, purely on a psychological “what’s going on inside other people’s heads?” level, as an outside observer incapable of participating it and trying to understand it based on anecdotes and fictionalized accounts and descriptions and conversations, comparing it to the emotions inside his own head and trying to go “so it’s kind of like this feeling plus that one and those, but More, and Different, and in that Other Direction.” I can imagine that as a kid Alastor “decided” to have crushes because he knew it was about that time it should be starting, and it hadn’t happened by then, so maybe what he needs to do is pick whoever he thinks is best-looking and get going with the crushing on them, right? I can imagine that Alastor spent his teen years waiting for his desires to “turn on” the way they did for everyone else, and being slightly puzzled when they took so long, but also okay with it because the more he thought about it the more it seemed like it was probably a nuisance—no one around him was someone he’d like to be attracted to—so he was fine with the fact it was taking so long, and he sort of assumed that it wasn’t because he didn’t have the capacity for desire but because none of his peers were desirable to him. I can imagine that he had his first kiss at like fifteen and thought it was horrible and gagged on it, and within an hour decided this was absolutely hilarious.

I can imagine Alastor having all these experiences—which are experiences I had. I’ve never seen another ace/aro character I can easily and naturally imagine having a single experience in common with me. Because no other ace/aro characters feel to me like ace/aro characters. They’re either characters with an ace/aro sticker arbitrarily and meaninglessly slapped on them, or they’re a walking stereotype about lovelessness.

- Besides Alastor’s spectacular Asexuelle Panique™ face, the other single line that made me latch onto him was “Why does anyone do anything? Sheer! Absolute! Boredom!” There are some very specific character types that I’m an absolute sucker for, and one of them is: extremely powerful character, at the top of their game, unstoppable and uncontrollable and unmatched, a loner who likes it that way, BUT they’re bored as hell, either because they’ve met all their goals or because they don’t know how to set any—and the boredom is eating them up inside, it’s driving them slowly mad, the sheer tedium of trying to fill one day after another with nothing to do is weighing down on them, if depression is usually compared to a heavy rain then this depression is like an endless empty waiting room, or depression like solitary confinement, or depression like an unmoving sun shining on an infinite flat desert, the depression of a completely empty hollow life leveled flat by infinite interminable boredom, a boredom they would do ANYTHING to get rid of, a boredom that’s like a withdrawal, a boredom that makes your hands shake and your pulse quicken with desperate need for the drug to stave off the withdrawal symptoms, but god, you don’t even know what the drug IS, you just know you NEED it, some form of stimulation, ANY stimulation, you’re going mad in this empty desert with your hands trembling and the withdrawal clouding your mind—

Have I mentioned that I have ADHD? Did you know that untreated ADHD can result in depression specifically due to chronic mental understimulation? I keep telling myself “bruh, don’t headcanon Alastor as having ADHD, you don’t even headcanon that he has any other traits that line up with ADHD symptoms,” but like. That one line. “Sheer! Absolute! Boredom!” I felt that in my very bones. There is desperation in that man. There is desperation in him that speaks to me like nothing else does. Like to the point that if it turns out that Alastor secretly DOES have a secret evil manipulative scheme going on I’m going to be annoyed/disappointed specifically because his driving motive isn’t boredom, lmao.

Anyway I feel for characters like that. I like to explore that desperate despairing boredom. I like to force them through that understimulation withdrawal, drive them to do stupid wild desperate things to try to get the stimulation they need. And then, when I’m feeling nice, I like to help them find a cure. Usually I imagine the cure is “dude, you’re such a loner that you’ve cut yourself off from the rest of the human race, you have NO human connections, even when you’re technically interacting with other people you’re still completely emotionally isolated inside your own shell. Make some goddamn friends and start to care about other people and their lives and you’ll find that the act of having other people exist in your world who matter to you will give you that stimulation you’re desperately missing.” Because these desperately bored characters are also desperately emotionally isolated. And they might be happy/content in their isolation—but they’re not doing anything to cure their own understimulation like that.

(“Hey OP is that how you cured your understimulation?” nah I got ADHD meds.)

- Remember everything that I just said about how much I love that Alastor is aro? Well forget everything I just said. Chuck it out the window. Bye.

So every once in a while I find a character that, for whatever reason, I really, really, really want to see pining. I want them to be in love, and I want it to be unrequited, and I want it to go on for years. I want them sobbing in private and then hiding it completely when they face anyone else. I want them to hurt so bad they feel like they can’t breathe. I want them unable to think about anything but their beloved. I want it festering inside them like an infected wound. I want it to hurt. Forever.

(“Hey OP do you uh, do you ever, yknow, want them to get their loved one?” yeah sure whatever)

For some reason, Alastor is one of those characters. Why? I dunno. I haven’t figured out my mental pattern on these ones yet. Maybe it’s specifically because it’s so incongruous with his outward appearance/and attitude. Maybe it’s because he’d do a really really good job at hiding it, but also I think he’s probably kind of a mess inside under his mask, and I think adding unrequited desire under that mask would mess him up anymore in really spectacular ways. Like a china cabinet that shifted in an earthquake so that if you open all the doors all the plates will fall out and break, except they’re already all broken inside of the china cabinet, but he’s in denial about that as long as he doesn’t open the door. I dunno, I’m speculating.

- On that note: I feel like he’s probably, like, hypercompetent and super powerful and super successful on the outside, but actually he’s a sort of screwed up dork who’s got no idea what he’s doing. (I present the furby organ as supporting evidence.) I like extremely powerful deeply feared dorks, ESPECIALLY when they have no idea what they’re doing.

- Also, affable villains. Totally friendly/sociable and totally evil.

- I dig his weird radio schtick. Like, Radio Stuff isn’t a thing I specifically like about characters, but on him I think it’s cool. Character gimmicks that can go a lot of ways and that you can do a lot of stuff with in character development are fun.

I think that covers all the important bases.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #meta #anonymous #ask

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fernsandsunflowers · 4 years

Note

Your knowledge of Harry Potter is like a rotten apple with worms in it!

Expressive! thanks for voicing your opinion.

I really hope this is in regard to the Snape post (x) I made years and years ago and has resurfaced recently and not JKR is a terf and can fuck off this planet please and thank you posts I’ve reblogged.

If it’s about Snape, I’ve seen most of the comments, I haven’t taken the time to read it all but general opinion seems to be two-sided there are those who agree whole-heartedly with my post, and those who do not. Most in the do not agree category has pointed out that heroism is not a competition. This is absolutely right, the story itself should have taught me that long ago, like when little Neville stood up to the trio in book 1. I apologize, sincerely, for comparing their acts of bravery. They both did amazing things and I hope, if it ever comes down to it, god forbid, I find in myself the same strength and bravery. The post itself was poorly worded. My goal was to ask that we show the same love and respect to Lupin as we do for Snape. That clearly didn’t come across, instead I got carried away and had written a post that ended up elevating Lupin’s acts of bravery while putting down Snape’s. Regardless of their background they both did heroic things and in the end gave their lives to save others. These acts of bravery deserve to be honoured and respected.

However, I stand by my statement that Lupin is the better man. I have seen a lot of comments that admit to Snape’s wrongs but use the excuse of unprocessed childhood trauma and mental illness. I will not accept this ‘white man’ excuse. I will admit, again, here that Sirius, James and Remus were wrong to have bullied Snape. Sirius, in fact, was still a bit of a dick after he returned from Azkaban. But why can we excuse Snape’s faults as the product of childhood and later life trauma but not Sirius’? Why do you continue to condemn Sirius for his bullying while at Hogwarts but make up excuses for Snape’s reprehensible behaviour towards his students?

Yes there were no systems in place for Snape to process his trauma (he did have one positive influence, Lily, but this was clearly not enough), that is a grievous institutional error. This exists in our world and is something that needs to be rectified immediately, in every country. There were no systems in place for Harry, Neville, Remus, Sirius and Regulus to process theirs either. In Regulus’ case he didn’t have the benefit of a positive environment too. But your argument is that everyone processes differently. My argument is that, Snape’s trauma doesn’t negate his negative actions in the same way that Voldemort’s trauma doesn’t negate his. If you are excusing Snape for being complicit in the murder of so many muggles and muggleborns because he was abused as a child and grew up in poverty, then you must also excuse Voldemort for murdering people based on his trauma from growing up in a shit-hole orphanage, in poverty and being hated and rejected by his father. I genuinely don’t know if Snape has killed anyone before Dumbledore, I vaguely remember a scene in the Prince’s Tale chapter where Dumbledore says something along the lines, you must have done it before? and Snape implying that he has not. I don’t have my book with me or I would check. It does not matter, aiding and abetting is still a crime. Why do we say ACAB? Complicit is still guilty.

I have no patience or place in my heart for anyone that chooses to join the side of racists and fascists, knowing full well what it meant. That’s what he did. You cannot deny that Snape was extremely capable of critical thought and was intelligent enough to see plainly what Voldemort rising to power meant to his supposed love. Or to thousands of innocent people. But he joined anyway, for power. Do you think I will be forgiven by my friends, or even you all, if I actively supported Trump, or ISIS, or an example from my own country (Sri Lanka), the extremist ‘Buddhist’ organisation called BBS that stands against Tamil and Muslim people (I put Buddhist in quotation marks as people who believe these ideologies are no longer Buddhist), or even my own father in his anti-muslim stance? He had Lily, who he loved, yet still joined an organisation that was murdering her people and posed a fatal threat to her as well. I do not have patience for that and I will not be shamed for it. If you’ve chosen to forgive Snape for willingly joining the wizard equivalent of Nazi’s and Neo-Nazi’s then fine, that’s your prerogative. I have chosen to forgive James, Sirius and Remus for bullying Snape when they were kids. That’s my prerogative. If you’ve chosen to forgive Snape for bullying children under his care to the point of terror and psychological trauma, because he himself had experienced trauma, I guess that’s your right as well (though I admit it infuriates me).

Also because I’m on a roll now, I will not stand to be asked to care about and include Peter Pettigrew in anything related to the Marauders. I understand that he was a part of the Marauders and I understand he was afraid for his life. Amongst the countless things I don’t have patience for, is disloyalty. The fidelius charm cannot be forced out of you, or bewitched, or tortured out. It must be shared willingly. Peter was already working for Voldemort since before he was made secret keeper. The Order knew there was a spy in their midst. Systematic racism within the wizarding world led them to believe that Remus was the Spy. Sirius was probably the first to believe it. Peter obviously felt some regret over it, but eventually divulged the information to Voldemort the first chance he got. I cannot and will not forgive that. If Peter was really a good person and was afraid for his life or for the life of his parents, or whatever, he would not have run back and actively looked for and revived Voldemort after he was ousted. He could have just left the country and hidden somewhere else where he would probably not have been recognised. He had an ounce of regret over James’ death that led to his own death, but in the theme of this post, it doesn’t negate his crimes.

To better help you understand why I am against Snape but support several others who have done wrong in their lives here’s an example. Someone who joined the Death Eaters willingly that I do forgive is Regulus Black. I believe he didn’t know any better, he grew up in a household where the only voices and opinions he heard was that of his racist af parents who applauded Voldemort. The impact of this influence is reflected in the way that Kreacher responds to muggleborns and their allies. This is an intelligent species to whom blood status of wizards should not matter. In the same way that countries colonized by Europeans that should not have anything against black communities are racist towards them. Because all they’ve heard about Black People comes from our colonizers - also, the power of representation comes up here, after gaining independence, the racist concepts that European colonization left against ourselves, other poc’s and black people were reaffirmed by the negative stereotypes presented in white media, which unfortunately is broadcast worldwide. But that’s a whole other can of worms. Kreacher is later taught, and experiences differently. He begins to show respect to Hermione and fights against Voldemort - the man his masters supported so thoroughly. I forgive Kreacher too for the part he played in Sirius’ death, here is someone who’s trauma and upbringing really does excuse their actions. He comes to understand that he made a mistake, learns and changes. Regulus wanted to make his parents proud, they supported Voldemort. Sirius, I don’t believe, helped Regulus understand any differently and rebuffed and berated him for parroting their parents views (this is never the right thing to do), thereby pushing him away.

We of course also know that Regulus had a kind and understanding nature, this shows in the way he treated Kreacher. He joined the Death Eaters when he left Hogwarts thinking he was doing the right thing. And immediately realised his parents had been wrong to support Voldemort, he tried to leave and couldn’t. In the end he actively tried to bring down Voldemort and his movement. As soon as he gained some substantial information on Voldemort he acted, giving his life to do so. Snape remained with the Death Eaters even as they killed countless muggles and muggleborns. He reported to Voldemort the prophecy he heard - if Regulus had been in Snape’s place here what do you think he would have done? reported to Voldemort? No, he would have kept it to himself, or taken the opportunity even to tell Dumbledore he would like to join their side. Snape, on the other hand, would have seen to it that Voldemort succeeded in ending this threat if it weren’t for one thing: Lily. This is NOT a redeeming quality.

Do you understand what it is I’m trying to explain? I’m not as eloquent as most of you here, so I’m sorry if I’m botching this up. Snape’s childhood should not have stopped him from seeing what Voldemort was doing. It should have been enough that he had Lily, a ‘mudblood’, to show him that Voldemort targeting muggleborn’s and muggles was wrong. Regulus had no one he loved who was a muggleborn. Neither did Kreacher. Sirius didn’t either but learned before he met Lily or any muggleborns that Voldemort’s and his parents views were wrong. So did so many others. Shit, even a lot of you must have been taught racism and unlearned it later when you were exposed to the truth. I know I had to as a child. Harry Potter played a key role in my own unlearning. Snape, knowing all this, joined Voldemort. That is why I do not support or forgive him. He continued to stay in Voldemort’s employ, rising in rank to the point of being accepted into Voldemort’s inner circle and being granted the Dark Mark. May be he was uncomfortable, but this did not stop him from following orders and committing crimes against humanity. He only stopped when the one muggleborn he thought was actually OK was being hunted by Voldemort.

Some of you have said in the comments that Snape was working against Voldemort since before the prophecy and threat on Lily. Where do you get this idea? Please tell me I genuinely want to know how you know this. Because in the Half Blood Prince, Trelawney’s drunken rant let’s Harry know that it was Snape who had heard the prophecy and told Voldemort about it. When confronted, Dumbledore tells Harry,

‘Professor Snape made a terrible mistake, he was still in Lord Voldemort’s employ on the night he heard the first half of Professor Trelawney’s prophecy, naturally, he hastened to tell his master what he had heard for it concerned his master most deeply. But he did not know, he had no possibly way of knowing which boy Voldemort would hunt from then onward or that the parents he would destroy in his murderous quest were people that Professor Snape knew. That they were your mother and father.’

- HBP, Chapter 25: the Seer Overheard.

Harry goes on to laugh at this statement referring to Snape’s hate of his father. Dumbledore responds to this with,

‘you have no idea of the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realised how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy, Harry.

It’s pretty easy to read between the lines here. Snape only turned from Voldemort’s side when he realised that Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy to mean Lily and James’ son, meaning Voldemort now posed an undeniably direct threat to Lily herself. If I can go a little further here, I believe Dumbledore’s empathy towards Snape stems from the part he himself played in helping Grindelwald’s plans for world domination and his own attempts to reconcile with his guilt over the matter. For me, this choosing to turn only when Lily was threatened does not redeem him because he either did not understand or care for the damage he was inflicting to others. If he had not been in love with Lily, he would have just let it happen and continued supporting Voldemort, how is that right? ‘It is the thought that counts’, this thought doesn’t sit right with me.

He never tried to redeem himself for joining Voldemort, only the part he played in Lily’s death. In my eyes he acted out of guilt, he was sorry for Lily’s death but not for joining a side that murdered thousands of innocent lives. He later chastised anyone who used the word Mudblood in his (private) presence but I interpret this as a reaction to the word reminding him of his and Lily’s fallout. I don’t believe it had anything to do with him actually understanding the damage behind its use. In death, he may have felt he redeemed himself, and Harry apparently felt the same. Washing his hands of Lily’s blood may have been enough for him, Dumbledore, Harry and you but it is not for me. His actions in later life did not, in my opinion, redeem him from willingly joining Voldemort and bullying children.

I apologize for comparing Lupin’s and Snape’s acts of bravery that was unreasonable. Snape’s actions certainly led to the downfall of Voldemort he acted heroically, but for me, he did not redeem himself entirely. It’s as simple as that. I respect that some of you believe he did. That’s fine. But please don’t gloss over the fact that he did work for Voldemort of his own free will, any negative influence he had that led him to believe that muggles and muggleborns deserved to be killed, dominated and enslaved (which is what Voldemort stood for) should have been countered by knowing Lily.

I love the complex character that he is, but I do not agree with his actions in early life, or the motivation behind his actions in later life. And that’s allowed so please stop breathing down my neck.

If this was about JKR being a terf, then maybe this will help: https://www.thetrevorproject.org/resources/trevor-support-center/a-guide-to-being-an-ally-to-transgender-and-nonbinary-youth/

Sorry this was meant to be short but I am physically incapable of keeping things short. This is also the last post I will ever make with regard to my feelings on Snape because well, I’ve been doing it for years and I don’t really care anymore. You do you.

#harry potter #hp #severus snape #anti snape #marauders #jily #anti snily #my post

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squeezeofthehand · 4 years

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A (late) Review of Moby-Dick: A Musical Reckoning

I saw Moby-Dick: A Musical Reckoning by Dave Malloy last month, and I can basically divide it into “The Good, The Bad, and the Racist/Queerphobic/Ableist etc”

Some background: As most people who’ve ever spoken to me will know, I have a special interest in Moby-Dick AND Dave Malloy/Rachel Chavkin musicals (I truly believe that Great Comet is one of the best works of all time) and I consider Malloy and Chavkin both to be my biggest heroes and inspirations, at least when it comes to their respective style of writing and directing. That being said, they’re not perfect. I waited for this musical for about two years, and music/set/etc wise it exceeded my expectations, but it also majorly let me down in a lot of ways.

The Good: The cast! The crew! The set! (It was literally The Pequod - like, they got rid of the stage.) The lighting design in particular was really good - thank you, Bradley King. Manik Choksi, Andrew Cristi, and Starr Busby are gods. I do not have a singular bad thing to say about the cast or the design team! Even the stuff that was tacky/campy (i.e. some of the puppets) was tacky/campy in an enjoyable way. And the “fun” parts of the show were REALLY fun - the fact that they invited the audience on stage, the fact that they TRIED to make Moby-Dick more accessible even if they didn’t do it perfectly at times….the music, when not problematic, was BEAUTIFUL. Listen, I’d be lying if I said Dave Malloy wasn’t one of the best composers when it comes to skill. Everyone in that show sure can act, and sing…the band too, was marvelous, I heard no errors from anyone. This is, what, a three hour long show? And the cast/band was just like, “oh, no big deal.” Which makes “the bad” and “the racist” even worse because these people deserve better. This show deserves better, it deserves to be better.

The Bad: Well, as a book fan, I disagreed with a lot of characterization…most of which can fall into The Racist etc, so I’ll just focus on the “bad but not inherently problematic” here. I really didn’t agree with a lot of things about Ahab’s characterization, i.e. I did not read him as just a bad white guy who’s the epitome of privilege. Stubb, on the other hand is, a canon white supremacist in the book and that barely gets acknowledged in the ways that it should. I do get what Dave was trying to go for, especially in re: Ahab & climate change, but this wasn’t the show for it - or at least, Ahab wasn’t the character for it. Which brings me to my next point: Most of the time, I’m a fan of the quirky Malloyian anachronisms and parallels to modern day issues, but I feel like he was trying too hard here and stepping out of line. Loose adaptations can be fun, anachronistic adaptations can be fun, even INACCURATE adaptations can be fun…but this just wasn’t. It didn’t feel like Moby-Dick, but more like a story vaguely inspired by it. If that had been what he was going for, it would’ve been fine, but he really acted like this would be an accurate adaptation of the book, so I felt let down. The only anachronism/breaking of the fourth wall that I somewhat liked were the talks of Melville and Hawthorne, honestly, and even those I’d sacrifice in favor for accuracy to the source.

And now…The racist/etc.

So.

Where to begin? I suppose chronologically. Queequeg. Who, according to Dave Malloy, is a stereotypical flamboyant queer person of color! and also a quirky cannibal! He’s trans in the musical, apparently, but there’s not much indication of that in the show beyond from him wearing a binder and a skirt. Now, I am all for trans Queequeg of course, but he was a caricature in this particular adaptation. I do not blame Andrew Cristi. I blame Dave (and mayyyybe the costume designers to some extent). I felt baited. Also, early production rumors and quotes said that there would be a song in which Queequeg saved someone from drowning. That never happened. It pains me to say it, but he didn’t feel that much like an important character (due to the bad writing -- again, it has nothing to do with the actor).

Additionally, Dave Malloy said that Queequeg and Ishmael would be a clear gay relationship…but the musical left so much room for them to just be interpreted as friends. It somehow became less gay than it is in the original Melville novel. The marriage was excluded, as were the quotes about them being a cozy and loving pair and about Queequeg holding Ishmael like a wife. They were replaced with the “I don’t wanna sleep with a cannibal” song, which was fun to watch at first but way too grossly stereotypical for me to genuinely enjoy it. Queequeg deserves a fun and light-hearted song, but he does not deserve a racist/homophobic one. My advice? Replace it with the actual chapters from the book, please. I do like the fact that The Pacific was a romantic duet and that they sing directly at each other during Squeeze Of The Hand, but those two songs are mere scraps especially compared to, for example, the Bosom Friend chapter of the book. It looked like they were going to kiss during The Pacific and I was very disappointed that they did not. Perhaps the team should keep the songs the way that they are for future productions, but add more romantic staging.

Pip-not-Pip/Elijah/??? (Ashkon Davaran’s character) and Fedallah were also major, major, issues. Not the actors, I love them. Not the book characters, I love them. But the musical characters.

Basically, Fedallah gets this 20 minute long monologue that can be summed up as “religion is bad” and a lot of other things including but not limited to egotistical fake-woke praise on color conscious casting and how badly America is fucked. And that’s not even mentioning the fact that Fedallah is Parsi and Zoroastranian in the book (and it is NOT good rep in the book by any means, trust me, I’ve been calling Malloy out on his racism but I can’t act as if book!Fedallah was anything less than an ~exotic caricature~ either). However, that’s beside the point, at least in this review. Musical!Fedallah is not Parsi nor Zoroastranian. Don’t read this the wrong way, I’m all for Black Muslim rep! But with a character who is already canonically something else? Take a white character and make them a Black Muslim, I encourage that, but when a character is already something else, no.

If the monologue was influenced/written by the actor, that’s one thing and I’d have less issue with it, but I think Dave wrote the vast majority of it, which…yikes…

My constructive criticism: Cut the Fedallah monologue. If the creative team still wants the actor/character to have the same amount of stage-time as he does now, replace it with a different monologue, maybe something from the book? Something about whaling history?

Another thing that needs to be cut or at least completely rewritten: Tambourine. The song starts off with an ableist verse that can be summed up as “you think you’re crazy because you get nervous on the subway? No! I’m more crazy than you!” Don’t take this as me saying that Pip’s trauma/PTSD shouldn’t be addressed at all, but this is the absolute worst way to address it. The song also has a lot of performative lines such as “is god cisgender?” Which, considering this is the same musical that also has trans bait, I truly hate it. Not that I think God should ever be viewed as a cis white man, but much like the “America is awful” stuff in the Fedallah Monologue, this is an offensive and fake-woke way to address such a topic.

Part IV was really heart-wrenchingly beautiful. No criticism there.

To summarize by part-

Part I: Cut/replace the campy Queeqeug song, but otherwise keep it as it is.

Part II: Cut/replace the racist and xenophobic Fedallah monologue.

Part III: Cut/replace Tambourine. The rest of the Ballad Of Pip (starting with Kim Blanck’s beautiful song) is alright. Good, even.

Part IV: Great! No editing needed besides from the typical tweaking that writers may choose to do after their first draft.

In general: Make Ishmael/Queequeg more obvious, make Queequeg less of a caricature, do some major editing to Fedallah and Pip-Not-Pip/Elijah/???. Tambourine and Fedallah’s Monologue need to be completely rewritten, but I get that the creative team may not want to take scenes away from the actors, which is why I encourage them to remove all of the racist bs and create something completely new/different for the actors to perform.

I understand that Moby-Dick is clearly a work-in-progress on all levels. I do not dislike for the show for being a scrappy rough draft. I judge it for its racist, homophobic, ableist, etc messages. Dave has acknowledged that this first copy is far from perfect, and I sincerely hope that the racism/etc. is the first and main thing that he fixes.

#moby dick #moby dick: a musical reckoning #dave malloy #call me sky #reviews

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thecorteztwins · 4 years

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@esteicy-blog “I'm convinced that they didn't even check the wiki page of her comic version when writing her in the mcu because movie Mantis has absolutely nothing to do with what you describe.“ I haven’t see the MCU movie, but I have read a bit about that version of Mantis and they sound NOTHING alike to me either! Comics Mantis is: - Not an alien. She’s a completely human woman with a Vietnamese mother and a German father. She was raised by Kree priests in a temple, but that temple was in Vietnam, not space, and then when she was an adult they wiped her memories so she remembered only growing up in Saigon. She never goes to space until her destiny as the Celestial Madonna is revealed. She MARRIES one of the Cotati aliens, but she isn’t one herself. Which means I think GotG has more POC who are playing aliens than actual POC characters? - Her powers are very different. As I understand it, movie!Mantis is a generic empath. Comics book Mantis had what she described as “empathy with nature” often calling it simply “empathy” for short, but what it actually was was just like...this very vague and generic psychic sensitivity. She wasn’t exactly a real telepath, nor a true empath, nor a precog, but she could feel “vibrations” that gave her clues if something was wrong, get a general sense of a person in a vague sort of way, and just generally gave her really good intuition. For instance, this one time a cop with a split personality had his other personality take over, and Mantis sensed SOMETHING was wrong because his “vibrations” changed, she just couldn’t say WHAT was going on. But more than her psychic sensitivity, was her martial arts prowess. Mantis has such martial skill that she’s able to grapple with Thor and WIN---quickly win, at that! At one point ALL THE AVENGERS try to physically restrain her, and she TOSSES THEM THE FUCK OFF (again, including Thor) She also once kicks Pietro in the face WHEN HE’S RUNNING! Again, this woman is HUMAN, she just has really extreme training by alien priests. - Her personality. Again, I haven’t seen the movie, but she seems kind of...cute and fragile and ditzy and naive from what I understand? Comics Mantis is intelligent, fearless, and very much NOT naive. She’s extremely assertive and serious, she’s not shy or giggly at all. She’s also framed as very intelligent and logical, though that’s more something the writing tries to convince us of than what’s actually on the page. She’s not stupid AT ALL, just we’re told she’s a brilliantly logical deductive mind on par with the Vision, when actually she just mostly makes guesses based on her intuition powers but calls it deduction. She’s definitely clever though, both in a fight and in terms of getting what she wants from people and situations, and how to best utilize her powers. She’s also never unsure in her abilities either; she’s so confident in them that in fact she defends them to others when they think her psychic intuition is wrong, or that she didn’t measure her strike correctly, and BOTH times she’s proven correct. But she’s also not arrogant about her skills either, and in fact demures from compliments. Mantis doesn’t tolerate anyone underestimating her abilities, including allies, and she trusts in herself completely...but she also doesn’t need praise from others either, and doesn’t seem to want it. And the story supports her, there is never a moment where she’s proven wrong in this. Mantis is NOT a character who EVER struggles with control of her powers. Mantis can be great. For instance, when she’s reuniting with the Avengers after having been away in space with the whole Celestial Madonna thing, they’re all super happy to see her. Silverclaw, a new Avenger (who is also indigenous Latina) stands off the side and is left out, because she doesn’t have any connection to Mantis. Mantis notices this, and she immediately reaches out to Silverclaw, putting her arm around her, saying that “Yes, they gather around this one. But this one would rather gather around you.” and explains that she was the new girl once and the Avengers supported her, and she wants to support Silverclaw too. It’s very sweet! Mantis absolutely can be a big jerk. The way she meets The Avengers is that some guys are being creeps to Wanda on the street, and Mantis jumps out to kick their asses and defend Wanda. This is great. But it’s not coincidence. Mantis wasn’t just passing by. She and her boyfriend the Swordsman (a former Avenger) want to join, and had come to the US for the express purpose of joining. So she was probably following Wanda and just jumped out at the moment she knew would make her look best to Wanda, so that Wanda would vouch for her as an Avenger. Mantis shows this capacity to be manipulative other times as well, and in fact in the end she seems to have been just using the Swordsman as a way to get America and be an Avenger, even though she claims to the Avenger that she doesn’t care about being one and just wants to be next to “her man”. She acts like the typical “submissive Asian girl who loves her big strong white boyfriend” at first but the minute she decides that she’d rather have the Vision, who is actively involved with Wanda, she starts pursuing him. She’s a huge jerk to Swordsman and Wanda in the process, insulting the both of them as being weak and not good enough for her or Vision, at first behind their backs, and then to their faces, she and Wanda get pretty catty. Mantis is very adamant that she wants a strong, heroic, INTELLIGENT man, and the Swordsman falls short for her. Which is her choice, but the way she handles it is very shitty to him (not to mention going behind his and Wanda’s backs trying to seduce Vision). He tries more than once to have a discussion with her about it, and she evades him, avoiding giving him any kind of straight answer when he asks her very straightforward questions. It’s not towards the end that she finally coldly dismisses him and tells him he’s not enough for her and that she doesn’t care for him any longer. Even when he’s dying after saving her and she’s begging him to live and apologizing, she’s still frankly kind of a selfish dick about it? She says she used him and that it was wrong and that she sees that now, but she says he needs to live so she can make things up to him. So he needs to live so SHE can feel better, basically, and she’s only feeling remorse in the first place because he sacrificed himself for her. Even after death, he can’t catch a break---she says she prefers the version of him that is actually the Elder Cotati possessing his dead body (I’m still not over that) because its smarter than the original Swordsman was. Ouch. But Mantis isn’t all bad for this! She’s not actually demonized for it at all, to be honest, nor is she punished by the narrative. Her story with the Swordsman is honestly more just a way to get her to the Avengers, then she quickly overtakes him in terms of importance as a character. It’s easy to forget he’s there most of the time compared to her, and he’s got rid of the moment he’s no longer really needed, and the next chapter of her story can begin as she’s revealed to be The Celestial Madonna. It’s the reverse of the typical male and female roles in a story, ESPECIALLY for a white man and an Asian woman. He’s HER prop, he’s the one devoted to her, he’s the one who is cast aside and dies for her as a part of HER story. Mantis also evolves. When she comes back from her journey as the Madonna, she’s straight with the Avengers about why she’s come to them, and she asks directly for their help, there’s no manipulative games. Wanda and her still have a bit of an issue on Wanda’s end, Wanda understandably still doesn’t like seeing her be close with Vision, but BOTH of them work at having a better relationship---Wanda in fact goes out of her way to tell Mantis that she and Vision are separated now, so it’s fine if he hooks up with Mantis (which he does) And Mantis hasn’t said an unkind word about Wanda in a very long time. Being a mother brings a whole new dimension to her. Ben Grimm cracks about how any “red-blooded American kid” would have a hard time calling her “Mom” due to her sex appeal, and Mantis rightly points out that people don’t often think of her as a mother---which is a small but VERY true commentary on how people can’t seem to conceive of motherhood and sexiness in the same woman outside the MILF stereotype---but she is, and she is a very devoted one, and she’s a great mom while also having sex with the Vision even while she also has a “mate” in the Elder Cotati, and she’s not portrayed as wrong for this in any way; she and the Elder Cotati seem poly I guess. And being a mother, being the Celestial Madonna, gave her a bunch of additional new powers, she’s stated to be a GODDESS now, and she ends up being able to TAKE ON THANOS and she WARNS him---”This one is life, Thanos, but hurt her son and she will kill you. That is a promise.” So, she’s a very well-rounded character, she’s very assertive and confident woman with every right to be, while not being arrogant. She’s got some really nasty flaws, she can be cruel and catty when it comes to romance, manipulative when it comes to achieving her goals when there’s not even any need to be, but she also matures and develops. She’s a great mom who also has an active sex life and nothing is shown as wrong about it. She starts out with admittedly very racist trappings---the mysterious seductive martial artists Dragon Lady from the Far East who seems devoted to her white boyfriend--but grows beyond it in spades. I can see why a modern movie might want to shed SOME of that baggage...but making her into a cutesty-poo side character with nearly all her incredible canon powers gone, while ALSO erasing her ethnicity and cultural identity, doesn’t seem at all a step in the right direction to me.

#mantis #marvel #avengers #gotg #guardians of the galaxy #meta #mantis meta #sorry for the novel but I wanted to talk about it #and you provided a very good opportunity #out of cortez

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werevulvi · 4 years

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Not the anon you replied to but I think the nonbinary argument falls apart for me because no one can be truly sexless nor a hermaphrodite person so this idea that they "should" be is like someone feeling they should be a minotaur or a fairy. It's so disconnected and almost entitled to bend reality that it grates on me, especially when its combined with some flavor of "but it's not a mental illness!".Even from a health pov there is no viable HRT that makes u both. And no gonads+no HRT = bad

Well, that's alright. I might just not see it from the same perspective as you. I don't really view nonbinary as one specific thing, but rather as on a greyscale kinda between male and female. It is not saying that mixing male and female traits on the same body in various ways necessarily "makes" a new gender, or truly sexless. The "gender" is merely personal interpretation.

I still battle this with myself, so it's difficult to talk about, but since I'm the only nonbinary person who's brain I know well enough to speak of... I guess I'll try.

First off though, usually the point with nonbinary isn't to be a specific "third" sex, sexless or to be some mythological hermaphodite. Humans cannot become truly sexless or be both sexes for real, but at the same time females cannot become males or vice versa either. So is it pointless to transition (with hormones and surgery) at all then?

Because at the end of the day, we're all just bio males and bio females, regardless how we feel about it, and regardless if we transition or not. That's what the reality is. But wanting to look different and putting a gendered meaning into that difference, isn't necessarily wrong, bad or illogical to me.

Like I have a teddy tiger which I sometimes refer to as simply "my tiger" even though she's not a real tiger. Because the toy resembles a tiger, and was made to resemble a tiger, it's logical enough to call her a tiger, even though it might sometimes be important to specify that it's made of fabric. Likewise, a nonbinary person might just be a female who looks partially male and partially female, due to hormones and surgery, like myself. To then say that me looking both male and female and liking it "makes" me nonbinary is no more untrue than saying that the soft toy "is" a tiger.

Because I resemble a mix of both sexes, just like the soft toy resembles a tiger. I cannot produce both sperm and eggs so I am not of both sexes for real; and my tiger cannot roar nor scratch, and is not a living creature, thus it is not a real tiger. Often times we call things not only what they are, but also what they resemble. Especially when it comes to art and other creations, but really all sorts of things. Like comparing someone's red hair to fire, or calling my balcony during hot summer days a sauna, even though red hair is not actual flames and my balcony is not an actual sauna. Why? Because it help with communication. Parables are important to describe things or to make a point. I even made another parable to describe a parable, to prove a point with a parable, just now.

Granted that most nonbinary (and binary) trans people do not view themselves as a parable to the gender of the sex they consider themselves to be, but I do.

So, consider the fact that transition doesn't actually change the person's sex, only polishes the surface to either look like the opposite sex, and/or some ambiguous variant of both/neither sex, but it can still make that person feel better about themselves. Is it then pointless for them to do things that make them feel better and find ways to lead a more functional life, regardless of how redundant it might seem to you? Because to me, the point of transitioning is not to become something else (whether that be male, female, sexless or a hermaphrodite), but to reduce dysphoria to improve over all life quality for the dysphoric person. And yes, dysphoria is a mental illness. I wouldn't wanna argue against that. I view my dysphoria as the defect, not my sex. And no, transitioning doesn't help every dysphoric person, but I think it's pretty clear that it helps for some. So then there's just not that much of a difference between... say, transitioning with T and top surgery to live as a self-perceived man - and transitioning with only T to live as a self-perceived half man-half woman. Because neither of those two examples can truly become anything other than a female anyway, so why does it matter? It might not matter to you, but it probably matters to them.

Also, I don't think anyone "should" be of the other sex or some other variant either. I just think people can do whatever they want with their own bodies if it makes them happy, and call themselves whatever they want if they feel that's useful for them somehow.

Both males and females, as well as intersex conditions that look ambiguous exist. Fairies and minotaurs do not. Even if they might be loosely based on bulls and fireflies. I could literally fool people to believe that I'm both male and female by simply saying some stupid shit like "I was born with both a dick and a pussy" because a lot of people have heard that can be a thing, even though they would know it's rare, they likely know it's humanly possible in some way. Getting people to believe I'm a fairy or minotaur would probably be a lot harder, unless they’re 5 years old.

How much or what kind of dysphoria somehow has doesn't really matter, I think. Dysphoria is dysphoria. And yeah, I would at least be willing to possibly extend that non-dysphoric people who seem genuinely more satisfied with themselves post-transition. Because then so what, good for them.

But yeah, I know even I have an easier time accepting certain types of nonbinary more than other types. Someone wanting no genitals, I would personally find very concerning, but someone wanting both a dick and pussy, I wouldn't be nearly as worried about. Someone wanting physical changes that can realistically be acquired through hormones, surgery, etc, would not be as concerning for me as someone wanting... say for example a big beard but not a deeper voice, and start dabbling with testosterone anyway.

You're right that there is no hormone that makes you "both" but it's possible to look androgynous in various ways with the hormones available. Sure, I may pass as male, have a beard and flat chest, but I also have a curvy figure and a pussy. To me, that's kind of a way to look like "both" sexes at once. Not evenly, and not like a hermaphrodite stereotype, but it is a combination of male and female sex characteristics that together makes me look kinda half and half. How I "achieved" that was simply by first going through female puberty (naturally) and then taking testosterone (on standard, "full" dose) for a significant amount of time, and get a mastectomy. Totally doable. Although my personal results depend highly on my genetic as well, of course. For other variants of androgyny, some manage to achieve that with low dose hormones, or going off the hormones after a shorter time on them. Some also go on and off hormones (not sure how healthy that is though.) Not everyone gets their intended results, but I have seen many variants that have looked good to me. I’m not advocating for getting one’s gonads removed and then not take any sort of hrt, or doing hrt without a knowledgable doctor’s supervision.

So really all I can say is I'm generally okay-ish with the concept of nonbinary, but some aspects/variants of it does concern me, make me uncomfortable, make me roll my eyes, or even viscerally upset me. I'm still quicker to critisise nb than I am to defend it, however... I do both critisise and defend it.

Whether I want to admit it or not, I'm practically nonbinary myself, even though I scoff at the concept and can name a hundred things wrong with it. I don't wanna label myself that, though. I hate it.

Let me put it this way: In an ideal world I'd just exist as myself like this, take my testosterone just because I like it (and not because I'm x, y or z gender), dress however I want (without it being questioned to mean I wanna be x, y or z gender), and be openly proud about my bio sex being female (without people telling me they don't believe it), without having to label myself anything at all. Alternatively, I'd also be fine with carrying a label which doesn't exclude ANY of those things I like being/doing with my body, style, name, etc.

But thing is I don't live in an ideal world. I live in Sweden. And in Sweden, we call freaks like me nonbinary. Because women don't wanna take testosterone to look like bearded men in dresses, and (trans) men don't love being female. Only nonbinary people do. So I’m only really nonbinary because I don’t fit any other label, and well, most people I know/come across dislike it too.

At the end of the day my body is just me and I just am like this. It doesn't actually "mean" anything, other than that I had dysphoria and acted on it. I love being female and I love being transitioned. Thus, I feel like I am in some highly abstract and vague sense "a little bit of both" sexes, and I don't think that's a particularly strange conclusion to come to, given my situation. I don't mean it literally. It's just how I relate to my body, and it's how the world relates to me. Sure, far from everyone “reads” me as nonbinary, but the sheer number of people who have told me I should identify that way... is flabbergasting, seriously. It’s like 20+ people who told me that, unprompted. Both people I’ve known, and strangers.

So, as I'm reluctantly trying to slap the uncomfortable nonbinary label on my own ass... perhaps I "shouldn't" invalidate my own kind, while I'm at it. However, the only thing I'd kindly ask of others to "validate" about me is my humanity, and to respect my bodily autonomy. If others think of me as a man or woman, both or neither, I truly do not care. But would I ever truly advocate for the nonbinary community? No, I don't think so. For the most part it’s regressive and goes against my values. I'd rather have gender be done away with, because ultimately I think that's a much better goal... even though it’s a pipedream. We can all dream, right?

So I mean... I'm probably not the best person to come to for some solid argument in support of nonbinary.

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